


Origins

by Jukebox



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Character Death, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 120,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jukebox/pseuds/Jukebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU version of Remy's introduction and subsequent joining of the X-Men</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this story many years ago on other sites, and only just realized I never posted it here when I joined. 
> 
> Disclaimers: Doing this only for therapeutic value. Not making any money off it. All the familiar characters in this fic belong to Marvel & Stan Lee. This is an AU because empathy and spatial awareness are just too cool for Remy not to have. I want to thank my betas, LoganBerry and Lex, for making this story better than I ever hoped it could be.
> 
> Warnings: I don't know French or Cajun French, so my apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. If I put any in this fic, it came from online translators and La library archives. Because this is an AU, some of the characters in this story may seem OOC.
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that parts of this story were stolen by another writer and used in their story. This other writer also stole from published authors and claimed it as his/her own. Fortunately, the ones who discovered it managed to get this writer and the stories containing plagiarized passages removed from this site as well as fanfiction. net. But, the writer still has it posted on Tumblr. It's unfortunate and sad that someone would do that. So, just wanted to let anyone reading this know that this fic is my own creation. I'm still amazed and have a hard time believing, even after all these years, that I wrote these stories and that they continue to be enjoyed by people *self-deprecating grin* 
> 
> If you're interested, the plagiarism complaints against that person can be found at https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/124913/151163737/1/

 

** Chapter 1 **

Late fall in Westchester, New York, a handful of leaves still clung desperately to  the trees in the hopes of a few more days of sunshine, but most had already given into destiny and lay scattered on the  ground, covering the landscape in a surreal carpet of  red and gold.  The view brought on by the changing seasons was usually appreciated by even the hardest of artistic critics except for one lone figure sitting on the lower limb of a tree across the road from the main gate of Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Wrapping himself tightly in his trench coat he failed to notice the beauty of the season around him, abject misery clouding his sight.  As he breathed in and out, the air from his lungs mixed with that all around him, creating a translucent mist that encircled his body.  The temperature in this northerly region was not unbearable at this time of year; most residents breaking out a sweater or medium weight jacket and thin gloves as they enjoyed the last bit of nature before the onset of the truly brutal thermometer readings.  But for a Louisiana bayou boy, the weather was downright arctic.  

He was on his third day of staking out the entrance to the school; climbing down from his perch only to relieve himself in the woods or to make his way back to the room he’d rented in town after all the lights went out at the mansion in the late hours of the night, returning just after dawn the next day.  Looking up at the looming storm clouds, he sighed heavily.  

“Dis ridiculous” he spat to himself.  “Dey s’pposed to be always looking for mutants.  At dis rate, dey only gonna find me if I walk up to de front door, knock and say ‘ello, I be a lost mutant.’” The irony of the situation was not lost on him.  He was a master thief, trained in the art of stealth with the ongoing mantra of ‘don’t get caught’.  Yet, here he was trying his hardest to be discovered while pretending to hide in plain sight.  “Remy LeBeau, you just be too good at what you do” he laughed to himself bitterly.

He wondered to himself how he ever got into this situation and pondered his possible options for escape.  On the one hand, he could just leave and disappear from society; he was very good at disappearing when he needed to.  Shaking his head, he knew that path was not viable as he would be constantly looking over his shoulder and it would only lead to his death sooner rather than later.  Not that it would bother him all that much.  / _Been doing dat all my life/_ he thought to himself.  On the other hand, he could join the school; build a trust and rapport with the residents therein, and complete the mission to which he had been assigned.  Neither choice was very appealing to him.  Ultimately, though, he knew that running was not an option.  / _Got responsibilities now/_ his mind admitted as he sighed to himself.  

“Merde” he whispered harshly, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as another gust of frigid wind blew through the trees.  

Within his office in the mansion, Professor Charles Xavier sat in his hover wheelchair in front of a window, looking thoughtfully out onto the sprawling landscape of the front grounds.  His hands were joined fingertip to fingertip slightly apart, forming a tent in front of his chest, as his brow furrowed in deep concentration.  Yet, even with his attention primarily focused on the scenery before him, he was aware that the man known as Wolverine had come to stand in the doorway to his palatial office and was carefully observing the Professor.

“Charles….” Wolverine started to interrupt Xavier’s musings, but was cut off abruptly be the object of his attention.

“Yes, Logan, I know.”

“So what do ya wanna do?”  Logan leaned against the door frame putting one ankle in front of the other and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Take a ‘wait and see’ approach.”  Xavier answered, not moving but keeping a steady gaze out the window.

There were a few moments of silence as Wolverine continued to stare at the back of Xavier’s head.  Chewing on a cigar, he made another attempt. “It’s been three days, now.”  

“We can’t force this.  It must be his decision.  He will come when he is ready.”  

Moving away from the door frame, Logan stepped up to Xavier’s side and watched the view with him.   Time passed with no word from either man, but an understanding none the less.  Finally, Wolverine removed the cigar he had been savoring and turned to face the professor.  

“Ok, Chuck.  We’ll play it your way.  But, just so ya know, the temperature’s supposed to drop below freezing tonight and Ororo says a storm’s moving in.  Lots o’ freezing rain an’ shit.  I guess she’d know.”  With that, he turned and headed for the door.  

As he reached the threshold, he paused when he heard the faintest of sounds.  Had it been anyone else, they would have missed it altogether.  But this was Wolverine, his mutant abilities giving him hypersensitive hearing thanks to the beast within him.  “Ok” was the whispered sigh.  Grinning to himself at the small victory, he continued out of the office to prepare.

Rolling his eyes upward toward the looming clouds, the lone figure in the trees cursed his life.  How could he be this unlucky?  Not only was he freezing to death, and the temperatures hadn’t even really dropped yet, but now he was about to be drenched under what promised to be a torrential downpour.  He closed his eyes and leaned the side of his body against the massive trunk of the tree.  

_ /Mutant/ _

His eyes snapped open and he cast his sights in all directions, honing his senses to the slightest sound.  “Hehn?”

_ /Mutant/ _

The second calling made him jump outright, bringing his feet under him so that he was crouching on the limb ready to pounce; one hand against the tree for balance and the other fingering a card in his pocket.  “What de hell…”

_ /Mutant, please join us within the mansion.  You are welcome./ _

His red-on-black eyes focused on the noise and movement of the front gates as they opened automatically allowing entrance.  “Telepat’s…..Why’d it have to be telepat’s.  Well, I s’ppose it be rude not to accept de invite.”  Hopping down from his perch, he casually strolled through the gates and headed for the front door of the mansion.

He was not really surprised that a telepath had contacted him.  After all, he knew the leader of this joint was one of the world’s most powerful.  What had caught him off guard was the evident fact that they had known he was there all along, but didn’t bother to acknowledge him until now - a disturbing revelation to be sure.  More over, he had half expected to be caught by one of the students or perhaps, the feral that constantly patrolled the grounds.  

Strolling closer towards the front door, Remy mentally worked to make sure his shields were firmly in place, tight and formidable against any mental probe.  If there was one thing he could not afford it was for any curious spooks taking a stroll down his memory lane.   Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took the opportunity to catalog all the sights around him; as any good thief would do.  The mansion he was approaching, for that’s what it was, gave a welcoming impression as well as a sense of comfort and money.  It was sprawling in its architectures; three levels at least, all brick and columns.  Ivy growing up one side only added to the regal look.  The landscaping was magnificent, very professional.  Flowers and shrubbery were placed in various shapes and designs, giving a swirling effect of color in front and to the sides of the main building.  

Yes, the structure before his eyes was truly magnificent and inviting to the naked eye.  But, to Remy, it was a façade, a mask to hide foreboding treachery and danger.  In his mind’s eye, he could see through the layers to behold the real vision; a shadowy castle containing many secrets and unknown horrors, much like his master’s fortress.  Remy could still hear the words of his current boss to whom he had been loaned.  

*“ _Do not be fooled young thief by the pleasant sights you will encounter.  These people are the most vile and evil creatures to walk the Earth.”_ * 

Who was he to question his assignment?  Hell, who was he to question anything about his life as it was?  The sarcastic smirk plastered on his face only gave hints of the conflict within his mind.  Still, he had to appreciate the aesthetically pleasing attempt the surroundings made to soothe any visitor or prospective investor.

Stepping up to the double-doors, Remy paused a minute to gather himself.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  Slowly exhaling and gradually opening his lids, he raised his hand to knock.  But, before his knuckles could come into contact with the oak, one half of the door opened revealing a rather stocky man with hair coming to point on each side of his head and a wry smile on his lips.  The man was shorter in stature than Remy, but more than made up for the difference by his sheer muscle mass.  The man stood there with one hand on the inner doorknob and the other hand on the closed half of the door, blocking the way.  His appreciative gaze roamed down and then up the lean figure standing on the door-step, before he finally broke the awkward silence.

“Well, now, ya’re one tall drink of water, ain’t ya bub?” Logan observed, seeking out the eyes of the boy behind the sunglasses he wore.

By the look of the shorter man in front of him, Remy realized this was probably the feral he had seen from a distance during his stakeout.  Of course, the fangs showing in his grin was also a dead give away.  Not really sure how he should reply, Remy simply nodded and smiled brilliantly, flashing his own set of beautiful pearly whites.  For a moment, he had the urge to say he was a lost mutant, like he had joked to himself earlier, but decided wisely to refrain.  

“C’mon, then.   The Professor wants to meet ya.”  Logan moved from in front of the boy, holding the door open as he waited for the kid to enter.  Pushing the door closed behind them, he motioned for the stranger to follow him, taking an opportunity to inhale deeply and memorize his scent.  Wolverine’s eyes flecked gold momentarily and narrowed as he categorized the smell as sweet and spicy with a hint of smoke.  / _So the kid likes his drags, that’s really gonna piss ole one eye off.  Good start in my book/_ Logan thought to himself as he continued down the hall.

Remy was following the older man warily, eyes darting back and forth to take in all of the rich woodwork and expensive fixtures.  A few paintings hanging on the wall immediately caught his attention as his eyes flared with intensity.  Unavoidably, Remy’s mouth began to water at all the possibilities around him, making his fingers itch with the thrill of a pinch.  He recognized the original works of art and instantly appraised the value as quite expensive, possibly in the tens of thousands.  He realized almost too late that his breathing had increased and heart rate sped up at the thoughts.  Bringing himself under control once more and mentally berating himself for the slip, Remy moved his gaze to the man ahead of him for any sign that he had been caught.  If the feral noted the momentary change, he didn’t let on but rather kept leading Remy towards the end of the hall.

As they reached the last door, Logan knocked respectfully.  After a moment, they were bid entry by a voice on the other side.  Remy took the opportunity to open his shields slightly to get a feel for what he was walking into.  The study was rather large with a bookcase to his immediate right and several large comfortable, leather chairs to the left.  Directly in front of them was a large oak desk with ornately sculpted legs and paperwork strewn on top.  Behind this desk sat a middle aged bald man in a wheelchair.  He studied them as they entered, his hands forming a steeple beneath his chin and elbows resting on the arms of his chair.  Remy could feel the interest and wariness emanating from the man, as well as from the feral in front of him.  Instantly, he felt a tingle at the back of his mind and snapped his shields tight, recognizing the nudge of a telepath’s scan.

Professor Xavier’s pupils dilated slightly as he was blocked by the mental shields of the young man that Logan had led into his office.  But, he showed no other outward appearance of discomfort as he waited for Logan to present the boy.

“Have a seat, kid.” Logan stated as he motioned to a chair behind Remy.  Logan waited for him to sit down before he moved to close the door and lean against the wall with arms folded across his chest.  

“Welcome to our humble abode, Mister…” the Professor inclined his head waiting for an answer from the mutant in front of him.

“LeBeau…Remy LeBeau.” Remy offered nothing else.

“Ah, Mr. LeBeau.   My name is Charles Xavier.  I own this modest dwelling.  My colleague here is Logan.  Please make yourself comfortable.  Would you like something to drink?”  

“Non, t’anks.”  He continued to stare at the Professor and periodically glanced at Logan as if he were sizing up potential threats.

“What can we do for you Mr. LeBeau?  Are you interested in joining our academy?”  The Professor was studying the young man’s features trying to read his body language and facial expressions.  He noted that the boy gave him nothing to work with in his attempts to gauge him.

“Mr. LeBeau was my poppa.  Please call me Remy” he replied dryly.  “T’ink I be a little too old for school, Monsieur.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, then, perhaps you wish to become a sponsor?  We welcome donations from patrons who seek to help those in need.”  The Professor cocked his head to one side and smiled.

“Non, dat’s not why I came.”  Remy shifted in his seat and turned to look at Wolverine briefly before returning his attention to the Professor.  “I hear you can help…. those with…..unique gifts.” He stated, choosing his words carefully.  

The Professor leaned forward in his chair, gaze never swaying from the boy in front of him.  “Well, now, that depends on what sort of…..unique gifts you speak.”

Lowering his head, Remy slowly brought his hand up and cautiously removed his sunglasses.  He blinked a few times to adjust to the light and then raised his eyes back up to look at the Professor, waiting for the words of disgust he knew would come.  The Professor inhaled slightly at the sight, but never turned away.  Rather, he responded in a way that was unexpected to the young man.  “Fascinating.”  

Remy’s brows rose in surprise at the statement.  The Professor motioned to Wolverine to look for himself.  Logan pushed away from the wall and came to stand in front of Remy, bending down to look right into his red-on-black eyes.  Remy flinched slightly when Logan brought his hand up to the boy’s chin to tilt his face up for a better view.  “They’re beautiful, kid” Logan stated before moving back to his previous position on the wall.  Remy’s eyes followed his movements nervously and then shifted back to stare at the Professor.

“I assume by the sunglasses that your eyes are sensitive to the light.  Tell me, Remy, how is your vision at night?”  The Professor’s question was one of interest.

“Yah, I can see very well at night, although not quite as well in pitch black.  It helps to have a fraction of light, but it’s not completely necessary.”  He paused for a moment before continuing.  “You aren’t disturbed by de demon eyes?”

Xavier waved his hand dismissively.  “I have seen worse.  We have one senior member of our staff whose eyes are……similar, in that he must always wear special glasses to keep them covered.”  He hesitated to give any further details in this first meeting.  “Do you possess any other unique gifts?”

Remy shrugged.  “Can blow t’ings up.”

The Professor arched one elegant brow at that.  “Interesting.  You are a higher level mutant than most to have two mutations.  How does your explosive power work?”

Remy asked if he may have a piece of paper, indicating it would be easier to show them than to explain.  Holding the paper between his thumb and forefinger, it began to glow.  After a moment, he tossed the paper above him and it exploded into ash with a little poof.  With a lopsided grin, he looked at the Professor and said “Can excite de molecules in any inorganic t’ing so de release of dat kinetic energy cause de t’ing to go boom.”

“Yes, I see.  Hmmmmm…” Professor Xavier brought his forefingers to his lips as he considered the boy.  “Is there anything else?”

Remy shook his head in response, lowering his eyes for a moment.  Logan slanted a sideways glance at Charles.

_ /He’s lying Chuck.  I felt something else./ _

_ /Yes, Logan, I felt it too.  But, he obviously doesn’t want to volunteer anything further just now.  Perhaps after he comes to trust us, he will share./ _

Remy looked back up at the Professor. “Do you t’ink you can help me control dem better, monsieur?”

“I think we can help you, young man.”  Xavier smiled warmly at him.

Remy visibly relaxed in the chair and smiled back.  Looking around the office once more, he then frowned and asked his next question.  “What it cost?  I don’t got much money, but I can pay my way somehow.”  The innuendo implied and the downcast eyes were troublesome to say the least.  Logan stirred in his corner, a faint growl rumbling in his throat.  

The Professor leaned back in his chair, his hands coming to rest in his lap as he considered the boy’s question.  “Not all our students are required to pay with money.  We have other forms of payment that we accept” Xavier replied, deciding to see how far this conversation would go.

Remy’s eyes snapped up to lock onto the Professor, then slanted towards the feral at the door.  He lowered his head for a moment and sighed.  Turning his gaze towards the window to stare outside, his face gone blank, he replied “D’accord.  You tell Remy what you want.”

Xavier shook his head, apparently coming to a conclusion, then narrowed his eyes.  “Very well.  You will be assigned chores around the mansion that you will be expected to complete.  You will train with me and with Logan, as well as a few other members of the staff during your probationary period.  If you successfully complete your probationary period, you will become a member of my staff and work for me, helping to promote peace between mutants and humans.”

Remy’s brow furrowed in confusion as he slowly turned his head back towards the professor.  “You want me to do chores and work for you as a member of your team?  Dat’s all?”   

“Yes, that will be sufficient payment.  Once you become a member of my staff, you will receive an allowance, in addition to your room, board, and food.”  Xavier paused a moment and then asked, “Were you expecting something else?”  

Remy blinked, and then blinked again.  He shook his head and blushed slightly in embarrassment.  The Professor took pity on him and indicated that Logan would show him to his room and take him on a tour, making a mental note simultaneously to explore his conclusions about the boy at a later time.

As they left the Professor’s office, Remy started to place his sunglasses back on when Logan reached up and grabbed them.  “No need to hide them, kid.”

Remy paused, startled in the moment as he watched the feral continue down the hall.  Shrugging it off, he followed and continued to observe his surroundings trying to get a feel of everything.  Logan took him from room to room, showing him first the common room where everyone met to watch television or play games, then showing him the kitchen.  The last room he showed the boy on this level was the gym, commenting on the sound proof walls so that kids wouldn’t be disturbed by any late night workout sessions.  Periodically the older man would turn and stare at him, making Remy slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.  He wasn’t sure what to make of the feral, having never had any good experiences with their kind.  Briefly, he wondered if perhaps some of his control had slipped, allowing his third mutation to affect the older man, but constant checking of his shields satisfied that worry.  

Logan led him to the second level indicating the two different wings of the floor as gender specific.  In no uncertain terms, Logan informed the boy he was to stay away from the female wing after hours and without invitation.  Stopping in front of the last door on the men’s wing, Logan opened the door and stepped back.  “This is your room kid.  It’s right across from mine.  Ya got any belongings we need to fetch for ya?”

“Non, t’anks.  I pick dem up later.”  Remy stepped into the room and gave it a once over, noting the sparse furniture.  Nothing fancy, though that wasn’t expected anyway.  There was a dresser and small closet for clothes, as well as a bed with nightstand and lamp.  A writing desk in the corner and a full length mirror on the door completed the ensemble.  To Remy’s surprise, it was actually quite nice compared to the motel he had been staying.  He moved towards the window and stared out at the view, noting the grounds that extended quite some distance and a grove of trees leading to woods just beyond the perimeter.

Logan watched the boy with keen fascination, judging him by sight and smell.  It was quite the intriguing figure before him, piquing his interests as very few do.  He was a little dismayed to feel his inner beast rising in response to the sumptuous body standing with a far off look at the window sill.  Logan had not had stirrings like this in some time, since he first came to the school and met Jean, an attraction that went nowhere and ultimately died to friendship.  Snorting to clear his thoughts, he got the boy’s attention.  “Well remember what I told ya ‘bout the girl’s wing.  And the third floor loft belongs to Storm.  Ya’ll meet her later.  If ya need anything, just ask.”  With that, he turned on his heel and left the boy, closing the door on his way out.

For a moment, Remy just stared at the door.  He felt some of the confusion and lust coming of the feral.  It frightened and thrilled him all at once.  Shaking himself out of his reverie, he fell back on the bed, surprised at the comfort in it, then sighed and thought about making a call to check in with his boss.  But, he decided not to chance being discovered by monitored lines, not before he had the chance to tinker with the systems.  Rather, Remy would wait to make the call from the motel when he went to retrieve his clothes.

Logan made his way back to the Professor’s office and let himself in without formalities, knowing that the man was waiting for him.  The Professor looked up from the papers on his desk and removed his glasses.  “Well, what do you think?”

Logan plopped down in one of the leather chairs and brought one ankle to rest on his knee.  “Not sure what to think, Chuck.  I couldn’t get nothing from him.  But, there’s definitely something else there, I know it.  Hell, I’m responding to it unconsciously.  It’s like pheromones or something, though I’m not real sure.  That’s more Hank’s area of expertise.  It wasn’t real strong.  I tell ya this, though, I get the feeling it could be.” 

Xavier leaned back, bringing one hand up to cradle his chin.  “Hmmm…quite interesting.  He has some formidable shields as well.  He blocked me easily.  I imagine any intrusion into his mind without authorization would be quite painful for the intruder.  Perhaps once we have earned his trust, he will share some of his secrets.  At the very least, we should attempt to convince him to let Henry give him a physical.”  The Professor turned his head towards the window for a moment, eyes glazing over as he considered something.  Turning back to Logan, he looked directly into the wild man’s eyes conveying the seriousness of his next statement.  “I need you to get close to him Logan.  I am quite concerned with his thoughts on payment.  There is an unpleasant history there we may need to explore to help him heal.”

Growling in the back of his throat, Logan pasted an irritated look on his face.  “I ain’t no baby-sitter, Chuck.”  A few moments into the staring contest between the men, the feral finally broke in defeat.  “Fine.  I wanna keep an eye on him anyway.  Don’t trust him.”  

The last thing Logan wanted was for the Professor to have the notion that he had won.  Without giving him the opportunity, the feral stood up and excused himself from the office in a huff.  He failed to see the smile that graced Xavier’s face as Logan retreated.

End ch1


	2. Chapter 2

See disclaimers, notes, and warnings in first chap

** chapter 2 **

Red-black eyes fluttered open.  Remy shot up-right in the bed looking around in panic.  For a moment, he didn’t know where he was.   An audible sigh passed from his lips as he realized he was in the room assigned to him at the school.  He must have fallen asleep; the exertion of the stake-out coupled with the uncomfortable accommodations at the seedy motel he had been staying in had finally caught up with him.  What bothered him the most was that he slept deeply without any dreams or nightmares and from the look of the darkened window and sounds of rain outside, he was out most of the day.  It had been a long time since he had felt safe enough to let his guard down so completely.  Quickly, he checked his shields and searched within for any signs that his mind had been scanned, breathing a sigh of relief when he could find nothing to indicate it.  

Getting to his feet he grabbed his coat, deciding that he needed to leave and get his stuff.  He didn’t have much at the motel; mostly clothes and a few packs of cards.  But what was there belonged completely to him and he would be damned if he was going to leave it for some junkie to scavenge.  The one thing he wouldn’t risk, however, was his precious staff.  It stayed with him at all times.  Quietly making way down the hall, Remy’s first stop was the shared bathroom.  After making sure no one was around, he made use of it quickly, hoping to leave and come back before anyone noticed.  He stole down the stairs at a noiseless pace and was about to head for the door when his stomach protested, loudly.  

Remy frowned at the broken solitude caused by the rumbling.  / _Some t’ief I be.  Gonna wake de dead wit’ all dis noise_./  Sighing at the thought, he decided to grab a quick bite.  He hadn’t eaten since yesterday and the body could only go so far without fuel.  Padding to the kitchen as smoothly as a cat, he eased the door open after using his gift to make sure no one was on the other side.  When he flipped the light switch and blinked away the temporary blindness, he searched around, noting the clock on the wall.  It was well after midnight, most likely the reason no one was roaming around the house besides him.  

Moving silently to the refrigerator, Remy opened the door and gawked.  It was packed with all kinds of mouth watering food; more food than he had seen in one place in a long time.  Snatching up some items, he made himself a cold meal and wolfed it down in record time;  the thought briefly crossing his mind that he might be sick from eating too fast.  But, if there was one thing he learned in his youth, it was to eat as much as you can as fast as you can because you never knew if someone was going to take it from you or when your next meal might be.  After he stuffed his face and satisfied his belly, he opened the pantry door and was again momentarily awed at the sheer amount of goods.  There was no way these people would miss a few of the stocks from this bounty.  And he needed it more than they did.  So, he grabbed a paper bag from the top shelf and filled it with some of the canned items; bread, and a couple of soda bottles.  The bag was full and he wished he could grab more, but there was only so much he could carry.  

Remy flipped the light switch off and headed for the back door, closing it behind him as quietly as possible.  Perhaps this assignment held other, more personal benefits to be taken advantage of, he mused.  No sooner had he turned to step off the porch when he was startled from his thoughts by a voice to his right.

“What’s in the bag, kid?”

Cursing himself as six kinds of a fool for not paying attention, Remy turned to face the man behind the voice.  “Uh…Logan, yeh?”  Though it was fairly dark, his night vision was better than most and he could make out the slight nod of the older man in the chair.  “S’not’ing important.”  He was thankful for the lack of light as he struggled to put his mask back in place, he could tell he looked guilty; the surprise of getting caught both embarrassing and disconcerting.  It was truly unlike him to lose his composure in front of anyone.  But something about this man kept him off balance.  Perhaps it was the feral nature, having experienced something similar once before.  

There was an uncomfortable silence while he waited for the older man to say something.  Shifting the bag to his other hip, he decided to make his escape while the getting was good.  “Remy gonna get his stuff now.”

“So yer coming back.”  It wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact.  There was a momentary flicker of light as a match was struck, illuminating the older man’s features as he brought it up to light the cigar in his mouth.  Logan sucked in the flavor, enjoying and savoring the taste, before pulling the stogie from his mouth to exhale slowly.  Deliberately stalling as he stretched his senses to hear the boy’s breathing and heartbeat, as well as take in the boy’s scent, Logan was using the opportunity to gauge the kid.  His super sensitivities gave him the chance to read a person the way very few could, and his mutant abilities were telling him the boy was as nervous as a rabbit; ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger.  That was not something Logan wanted.  He wanted, no needed, the kid to come back, a fact that disturbed him a great deal.  Normally, he couldn’t care less if someone passed up the opportunities presented them at the school.  After all, it was their decision and who was he to question anybody’s personal life choices.  But, this was different.  Something about this boy made him cringe at the thought he may never see the kid again.  

Logan decided to push that to the back of his mind to analyze at a later time.  Right now, he needed to tread carefully so he wouldn’t spook the boy.  “Fine, but ya didn’t answer my question.  What’s in the bag?”  For some reason, Logan couldn’t let it go, though his nose already told him it was packed with food.

Anger welled up inside Remy.  Briefly, he considered throwing the bag at the older man, his pride bristling at the unsaid accusation and the intrusion into his privacy.  But, **they** needed it.  And he would be damned to let his pride cause suffering by getting in the way of delivering the much needed supplies.  He took a deep breath to give himself a moment to think before responding.  “S’food.  Was a bit hungry.”  

Logan closed his eyes briefly, glad that the boy told him the truth.  “There’s plenty to eat kid.  Ya ain’t got to sneak in to get it either.  And we won’t take it from ya.”

Remy stared at the older man, his luminous eyes glowing in the dark.  He lowered his head to look at the bag then glanced back at the man puffing on his cigar.  “T’anks” he whispered as he turned to leave.  

Blowing out another cloud of smoke, Logan didn’t even turn to watch the boy leave, just listened to the sound of his steps growing fainter.  “Yer welcome, kid.”  

End ch 2


	3. Chapter 3

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in first chapter

The song sung by Remy in this chapter is Candy Man

**chapter 3**

The ride back to the city was slow going with sheets of icy rain slashing at his face.  Remy was thankful that the owner of the bike he ‘borrowed’ had been safety conscious enough to leave a helmet as well.  By the time he reached the run down section of the city he knew so well, the rains had mostly let up.  He drove into an alley not too far from the motel and turned off the motor, lowering the kickstand to bring the bike to rest.  Grabbing up the bag of food from the pannier, Remy walked cautiously into the alley, scanning the area to make sure no threat was nearby.  Opening his shields he searched out for the emotions of a particular mind that he knew would be close, touching it briefly before smiling and pulling back. 

“Remy!”  the head of a little girl popped out of man hole a few feet away.  Clambering out she ran to him, arms spread wide and hair flying in all directions.  She was one of the blessed few of the clan that did not yet possess any outward signs of mutation, though it would change as she grew older.

“Bon jour, petite.  Miss me?”  Remy couldn’t help but smile at the pure, innocent emotions pouring off the child as he knelt down to meet her hug.  She kissed him on the cheek and started digging into the bag to see what he brought her.  “Where your poppa at, Krystal?” 

“Right here.”  A disembodied voice echoed in the quiet of the alleyway.  An ordinary trashcan transformed into a grotesque little man with purple skin and yellow eyes.  “It’s good to see you, Remy.  Wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone this time.” 

“Ah Kale, you know me.  Got de wander lust, yeh?”  Charm flowed off the Cajun like water as he shook the other man’s hand.  “Got some t’ings here to tide de group over.  Ain’t much, but dere more where dis came from.  Just need a little time.”  Remy handed the bag over to the man, and scooped the little girl up to whirl her around, relishing the laughter that more than made up for the harsh surroundings.

“Remy, sing me.” She gasped in between laughs. 

“Now, Krystal, don’t bother him” her father said sternly, giving her a disappointed look.

“Non, it be fine.  You really want to hear dis old boy, petite?  Den, your wish be my command.”  Remy gave her a wink as she settled her legs around his hip, hugging his neck tight.

As he started singing out her favorite tune, all traces of his Cajun accent disappeared as if he transformed into a completely different person just for her.  “Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination.  Take a look and you’ll see into your imagination.”  He whirled her around again as he started the next line.  “We'll begin with a spin traveling in the world of my creation.  What we'll see will defy explanation.”

Kale smiled at the two, then looked into the bag and could barely contain the emotion in his voice. “Thank you, Remy.  It is more than enough.  You always do too much.”  He looked back at the Cajun and motioned for his daughter to come.  “Take this bag to your mom, Krystal.”

“Awe, but daddy, Remy just got here” she whined.

He smiled at his child, patient as ever.  “Please child, do as your daddy asks.  It is very late and Remy is tired.”  She pouted for a moment, then reached up to give Remy one more kiss before taking the bag and disappearing underground.

Kale turned his attentions back to the boy and drew his brows in concern.  “You take too many risks, Remy.  You don’t need….”

Remy cut him off with a wave of the hand.  “Non Kale.  You don’t worry ‘bout Gambit.  Take care of de chil'ren, I take care of myself.”  He turned and headed back for his bike, placing the helmet back on his head.  Just before he started the engine, he looked back at the other man and said “Don’t know when I be able to get back, mais I try to bring more next time.  D’accord?”

Kale knew there was no arguing with the stubborn boy, so he simply nodded in response and waved a hand farewell, watching the Cajun disappear around the corner.  He whispered a prayer for the young man, then turned to follow his daughter.

**********

Remy made it back to the motel, the close proximity to the alley and the price being the primary reasons he chose it.  Entering his room, he quickly packed his meager possessions into one duffel bag and made one last sweep of the place.  He was about to leave to check out when he glanced at the phone.  Fingers went to the bridge of his nose involuntarily as the beginnings of a headache took form.  He hated his life; feeling trapped by what he had become and the responsibilities he had assumed. 

How he had become a slave to the monster was still a mystery to him.  No matter how many times he tried to break free, Essex always found him and brought him back.  It was like the man had some kind of internal radar tuned to the Cajun.  Remy had enough scars on his body to remind him of the punishment that awaited him if he ever tried again.  But, it really didn’t bother him so much to be punished or to face death.  It was only his body, only pain.  At least that’s what he kept telling himself.  The real torture was the possibility that the doctor would find out about the clan for which Remy provided.  The man was pure evil and would most likely salivate at all the potential lab rats waiting in those tunnels, if not outright destroy them for the genetic wastes he thought they were.  They were the undesirables; humans with outward mutations too obvious to be able to live a normal life above ground.  They called themselves Morlocks and instead chose to live under the city, forming a small family of their own; brought together by the common bond of their visible mutations.  Life was much harder for them, Remy knew well enough.  Though he could pass as normal among most humans, the occasional glimpse of his unique eyes and the periodic loss of control of his powers had caused him more than his fair share of trouble growing up.

There was no one to blame but himself for allowing them to worm their way into his heart.  He still recalled the day he saved Kale from a group of anti-mutant haters.  Normally he wasn’t one to interfere with the business dealings of others, but his sense of justice couldn’t allow the badly outnumbered man to be beaten to death.  Remy snorted and chuckled to himself.  Sense of justice?  Right.  What a load of crap.  He didn’t believe in it for one minute.  Though Kale and the others tried to convince him otherwise, he knew the truth; he was a thief, a slave, and a whore, nothing more.  Remy didn’t remember all the particulars of that day, but if pressed, he would recall that the thugs were in the way of whatever stupid assignment he was on that day; the saving of the Morlock just a side benefit. 

Running a hand through his wet hair, he sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the number given to him by his current boss.  When the other end answered, Remy gritted his teeth at the voice.  “It’s me.”

“Well if it ain’t the wonder boy.  Finally decided to call home, sweet cheeks?  I take it ya got into the place.  Tell ole Creed how ya did it with no money.  Did the old, bald fart make ya go down on him?” 

Remy could almost see the sneer on the bastard’s face.  He didn’t want to get into it with this maniac and refused to rise to any bait.  “Lemme talk to Magneto.” 

“What ya gonna do for me if I do?  I’m feeling mighty horny right now, boy.”

Remy let the comment slide over him, thankful for the distance between them.  “Dey gonna expect me back soon.”

Laughing heartily into the phone, Creed told him to hold on and transferred the line to another phone, where Magneto picked up.  “Ah Gambit.  I trust you found a way to join the institute despite your lack of funds?”

“Yeh, dey want me to work around de place, do chores to earn my keep.”  He put as much neutrality in his voice as possible, not wanting to give anything away.

“I see.  Nothing else was asked of you then?”  There was no change in timbre in Magneto’s voice as he subtly inquired as to whether sexual favors had been requested in exchange for tuition.  Remy was irritated at the fact that the master of magnetism had led him to believe such a sacrifice would have to be made; a prospect that had dismayed Remy to no end at the time.  “Very well, how long before you can hack into the database and retrieve the data?”

“Dey ain’t even shown me de lower floors yet.  It may be a while before I’ve built enough trust for dem to give me de opportunity I need.”

There was silence on the other end.  Remy felt a cold shiver run down his back  at the thought that Magneto would be angry with that answer, perhaps sending the animal to encourage speed in a most unpleasant way.  Finally, Eric spoke, his voice controlled.  “Fine, that is acceptable for now.  But I will not wait forever young thief and I will expect regular updates.”  With that, the line went dead.

Remy stared at the receiver in his hand for a long while, before finally heading out of the room.  He checked out and made his way back to the mansion.

End ch 3


	4. Chapter 4

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in first chap

** chapter 4 **

It was nearly dawn when he returned to the mansion.  Quickly entering the code that the feral had given him during the previous day’s tour, he scoffed at how simplistic the gate’s security box was.  Surely nothing a master thief couldn’t handle, if said master thief was ready to reveal such talents.  He grimaced at the stab of pain he felt when he recalled exactly how he had obtained those skills.  It was the one brief time in his young life that he had a real family that cared for him, and that he in turn cared for, though he had to admit that the Morlocks considered him family.  He missed Jean-Luc, his tante, his brother and cousins in the Thieves Guild dearly.  Of course he wasn’t allowed to be a part of them for very long.  After all, ‘Le diable blanc’ didn’t deserve happiness.  Demon spawn such as him only had the right to misery and pain.  Sighing, he ran fingers through long, auburn locks, shaking his head to clear those thoughts pronto.  He didn’t need to wallow in self-pity, there was work to do.  

As he moved into the kitchen, he closed his eyes in concentration, taking a deep breath to let his shields lower completely and briefly touched the emotions of the residents, long enough to get a feel for the number of people but not long enough to be overwhelmed by them.  He was always amazed at the intensity of pure and raw emotions that humans displayed when in the depths of slumber, a time when most had the least control over them.  Another benefit of scanning while they slept was the fact that most telepaths and peoples with strong blocks were least aware of the scan, allowing Remy to relax from the fear of them catching him, or worse, reading him back while his own shields were down.  He could feel a muffled tinge of guilt and hope and assumed that it must be the Professor with his strong barricades.  There was a more powerful feel from another part of the mansion, a strong rage mixed with fear.  Ah, the feral, and in the grips of a nightmare it seemed.  The thought caused a momentary tightening of his chest in sympathy for the older man, it was a feeling he knew well.  

Shaking himself, _/Non, dis no way to feel ‘bout dem/_ , he mentally slapped his own self upside the head for even considering an emotional response.  His compassion always seemed to get him into trouble, and he couldn’t afford to fail in this mission; a point that had been made all too clear he mused as he absently rubbed faded welts on his lower back.  

Continuing the quick scan, he felt only one other.  A calming peace emanated from the highest levels of the building, with a hint of swirling emotions kept in check below that peaceful surface.  The serenity was almost addictive and for a moment he envied it. But he was somewhat startled to feel the presence of only three individuals within the building.  For a place that was supposedly a school, it seemed like there would be more people here.

He shrugged, not quite surprised since his current boss told him it was a front anyway.  And though Magneto had already misled him once, Remy was still inclined to believe the man.  Time to start building a little trust with these people.  What better way than prepare breakfast for them and take an opportunity to call on some little used skills of his own.  Since he wasn’t sure exactly what they may or may not eat, he decided to cover all the bases.  After all, the pantry was still pretty well stocked.  It wasn’t long before the smells of waffles, eggs, toast, bacon, coffee, and various other breakfast items were wafting throughout the lower floor of the mansion.  

The enticement was too much for the mutant with the most sensitive of olfactory senses and he woke with a growl in his throat as well as his belly.  Quickly, Logan got up and dressed, a little flummoxed at who could be up at this hour making breakfast.  He made his way quickly and quietly down to the first floor; no sound betraying a man of his bulk as he eased through the door.  Logan grinned at the rear view of the new kid, appreciating the sight of the lithe form as much as the smells of spice and food.  

After a moment, Logan cleared his throat to catch the boy’s attention. “Smells good, kid.”

For his part, even with his shields firmly resurrected, he felt the man coming long before the kitchen door opened.  Remy didn’t even turn, but continued to concentrate on the pan in front of him.

“T’anks, mon ami.  Wasn’t sure what everyone eats, so I just made a little of everyt’ing.”  Removing the pan from heat, Remy reached over to grab a plate and dumped some fresh eggs and bacon on top.  It was then he turned to face the old man, setting the food in front of the feral.  “Mais, you seem like a bacon and eggs kinda homme to me.”

Again the feral grinned, an impressive set of canines displaying in a genuine smile as he looked the younger man directly in those exotic eyes.  “Got it in one, Cajun.”

Remy’s smile faltered and he blinked at the man.  “How….How did you know?”

“The accent.” Logan commented.  _/Well that and the spicy scent that pours off ya/_ he thought bemusedly.  “Thought I recognized it yesterday.  Yer from bayou country, ain’t ya?”  

It took a moment for the question to filter through.  Remy blinked again before nodding.  “Oui.  N’Awlins.”  And then he turned back to the stove, body language indicating the conversation was over.

Logan didn’t take offense.  In fact, he understood perfectly the need to keep some things private.  Rather, he concentrated on the savory items in front of him.  The kitchen door swung open again and Professor Xavier floated into the room, wishing both men a good morning.

Remy placed another plate of food in front of the professor, then made a plate for himself before sitting opposite.  Xavier lifted his fork and sampled the cuisine.  “Well, I must say this is a nice surprise.  We haven’t made out your schedule of chores yet.  However, I see that you enjoy cooking and are quite skilled at it.  Perhaps we should start you on cooking duty when the others return.”

This peeked Remy’s interest and he took advantage of the opportunity to gather some information.  “Other’s?  How many people be living here anyways?  Ain’t seen anyone else so far.”

“Ah, well that is because most of the students and faculty are off on various field trips.  A few of the older faculty have joined with our resident doctor to present a paper in Washington.  They should return by the end of the week.  The students will be here before the weekend is over.”  Xavier smirked at the youth.  “That is when the true chaos will begin.”

About to reply, Remy opened his mouth then closed it, glancing quickly at the door before shifting his gaze to his plate.  He felt that calming presence again.  Someone was coming.  Logan noted the slight movement, hearing the increased pulse of the kid, and quirked a brow in Xavier’s direction.  Xavier, who had also noticed, shook his head slightly at the feral and returned to his meal.

The door swung open and in walked one of the most sophisticated-looking women that Remy had ever seen.  Her rich mocha skin, contrasted with flowing white hair, gave off an aura of understated, yet unpretentious superiority holding herself with an air of regality.  Almost at once, Remy could tell she was completely at peace; her pure emotions an aphrodisiac to the soul and he was hard-pressed to stifle a moan.  She was beautiful.  Remy rose automatically from his chair, awestruck at the sight of this elegant creature, feeling unworthy to be in her presence; a bug to be squashed in the path of a queen.  Not to be outdone, Logan rose as well to greet the lady, while the Professor merely smiled.

“Good morning, Ororo” the Professor beamed, noting her eyes lift from him to the stranger across from Logan.  “This is Remy LeBeau.  He will be joining our school to learn control of his powers.  Remy, meet Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm.”

At first, he couldn’t find his voice as he just stared at her.  But, ever the calming influence, she took the initiative to end the awkward silence.  Stepping forward, she raised her hand in greeting.  He smiled and took her hand, bowing slightly as he placed a kiss on her knuckles.  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Munroe.”  He then reached around her to pull her chair out, as any southern gentleman should do.

She arched an elegant brow at the gesture and smirked as she took in the scowl gracing Logan’s features.  “Likewise, Mr. LeBeau.  But please, call me Storm.  I am sure you will settle in nicely in our home.”

Remy was almost humbled at the matronly feelings pouring off her.  Storm she called herself.  A fitting name for one who exuded calm on the surface, and a tempest of emotions beneath.  As enchanting as she was, he was surprised to feel no lust for her, merely respect and admiration despite knowing nothing of her.  Instantly, he decided she would probably be someone he would eventually call friend; a realization that shot a pang of guilt through his heart.  

Settling down, the four continued their breakfast in companionable silence.  

 

End ch 4

 


	5. Chapter 5

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in first chap

**CH 5**

“Alright Remy, the first thing we need to do is test the level of your powers.”  The Professor floated ahead of the boy with Logan flanking him.  “You will accompany Logan while I head to the control booth to monitor your progress.”  With that, he rounded a corner and left the two as they continued to the door of the danger room.

“This way, kid.” Logan waved.  They walked a little further down the corridor until they came to two hulking metal doors with an impressive security lock.  Remy watched closely as the feral proceeded to key in some number combination, and then placed his hand on a pad that suddenly appeared out of the wall.

“Welcome Wolverine.” was the computerized voice that emanated from the panel in the wall. The heavy doors hummed and clanked as the massive locking mechanisms released them and  they slid slowly open.  There was an audible sighing sound as the air flowed out of the room, the pressure equalized.  Remy stayed silent, his eyes wide as he followed the older man into the room.  

The room didn’t seem all that special to warrant such an entry system.  To him, it looked like an empty room; about the size of a basket ball court with ceilings that raised approximately two floors.  In the far end of the room towards the ceiling was a glass enclosure.  He could clearly see the Professor staring down at him and assumed it was the control room the Professor had mentioned.  Logan watched as the boy moved ahead of him towards the center of the room with his eyes roaming to all sides, appraising the emptiness of the space.

Remy was slightly perplexed and turned around raising a questioning brow at the feral.  “How dis gonna show y’all my powers?  It be not’ing but an empty room.”

Logan merely grinned as he reached behind him with one hand and pressed a button.  “Computer, training level 002 authorization Wolverine.”  Immediately the room began to shift and morph before Remy’s eyes.  He stepped back warily, surprised at the sudden change in the environment.  From under him, the floor changed to padded mats, causing him to nearly trip and fall backwards.  Logan was there in an instant and grabbed him by the elbow to steady the incredibly nervous young man.  Outwardly the boy showed no real emotions at the change, but he could smell the boy’s reaction and damn near feel the tension in that lithe body.  For his part, Remy had no clue the feral was next to him, let alone touching him, too absorbed in what was taking place all around.  Before his eyes, the empty room transformed into a lengthy workout area, complete gymnastics equipment of all types along with what looked like some type of obstacle course.  

“Mon Dieu” he gasped as the room completed its changeover and everything settled.  

Logan grinned.  He always loved the reactions of the ‘newbies’ when they first encountered it.  “Welcome to the Danger Room, kid.”  From the astounded look he received from the younger male, he proceeded to explain.  “This room is used for all our training.  We can set up different scenarios to hone our skills.  Pretty handy, huh?”

Remy could only nod as the Professor’s voice broke in to explain further.  “The Danger Room is quite special in its technology.  I won’t go into details right now, but suffice it to say that you won’t find anything else like it on Earth.  Logan, if you would be so kind as to join me in the control room.”  The feral took another moment to watch the newcomer before spinning on his heel to depart the room.  

As the door panels slid closed with a reverberating thud, Remy whirled around to note that he was now alone in the room, slightly annoyed that he had not paid attention when the older man left.  He turned back to the control room and cocked his head at the Professor.  “What now?”

“We want you to run through the obstacle course and utilize some of the equipment in whatever way you feel necessary, for as long as possible.  We need to test your endurance which will directly reflect how long you maintain control over your powers.  How do you normally discharge your energy when you feel it building?”  The Professor glanced periodically at him while deftly pushing buttons on the computer console.

Remy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a deck of playing cards, maneuvering a few out of the pack to fan between his fingers.  He held them up and showed both men that he now saw in the glass-enclosed booth high above him.  

“Ah, interesting choice.  Very well, be prepared for a few objects to come your way while you are running the course.  Feel free to destroy them as you deem necessary.”  A few more moments and the lights dimmed slightly.  Gambit looked to the ceiling and crouched automatically in a defensive position.  “Relax Remy.  We are simply trying to adjust the lighting to a level you may find more comfortable, in case you wish to remove your sunglasses.”  He nodded in thanks and did just that, folding them to place in his shirt pocket.  

A sharp intake of deep breath was all he needed to jump right into the fray.  Twisting and turning his body, flowing like liquid through various holes and over rises, landing sure-footed on narrow edges to handstand off and flip to another surface.  A few minutes into the exercise saw objects begin to fly around and over him.  As they neared his person, he flipped a charged card to blow the offending things out of the air, maneuvering onto the next obstacle as he did.  Before his eyes, the course changed, extended, and grew more complex.  He had no clue how long he ran the track as his mind blanked automatically and time lost meaning.  The flow of energy through and around him increased, humming hypnotically, capturing his attention; he could see the lines of energy laid out before him.  Aware of objects all around him, he continued to leap, twist, and flip cards; his mind delving further into the task at hand.

In the control booth, both the Professor and Logan were entranced by the display.  Logan glanced down at his watch and was surprised to note that more than three hours had passed since the test began, but oddly enough, none of them seemed to notice.  

“Incredible” the Professor breathed out as he took to monitoring mentally any changes in the boy’s shields.  

Having all sensors trained on the lad, Logan easily picked up on the increased panting as the minutes ticked by, though he wasn’t quite sure if the noise was from the boy or from his own rapid breathing as he took in the sight.  So caught in the vision, he almost failed to notice the slip….almost.  The boy grunted out loud for a moment as a foot landed in a slightly miscalculated spot, sending him tumbling in a roll to the side of the beam on which he had attempted to land.  The recovery was quick as a card flew out from his chest to strike the two objects gaining ground on him.  But the damage was enough, and the ankle was weakened.  Remy began to stumble more; a limp growing evident in the problem leg.  The metal orbs that had been circling him closed in; their programming set to emit a light taser when falling within a few meters of their prey.  More and more tasers shot at the boy, causing him to moan and strike out, arms flailing about tossing cards in all directions.  All too soon Remy was out of cards and started hurling any loose object he could find.

“That’s enough, Chuck.  Shut it down before the boy gets hurt.”  Logan placed both hands on the console as he stared down into the scene below.

“A few more minutes, Logan.  There are safety measures in place to assure that nothing goes too far.  We need to see at what point he will lose control.”  As rational as the Professor tried to answer, he received only a low growl in response. 

Remy was breathing hard now; pain beginning to factor into the fatigue that already plagued his body.  The sweat poured down his face and neck as he continued to fight the metal balls that seemed to only multiply with each destruction.  Damn; the things were everywhere.  He felt his control slipping and was hard-pressed to rein it in.  As two more spheres shot him, he cried out, in an attempt to maintain a grip on his power, but it was the last straw.  Everything around him started to hum, the glow of the objects growing as the molecules within started heating up; plasma glowed yellow-white around them as the objects began to melt and distort. Eyes shut tight, he brought both hands to his head in an attempt to physically hold it all in, but it was too much; the energy was on the verge of release.

“CHARLES!”  Wolverine shouted but the Professor was already spurred into action by the unfolding scene.  He quickly pushed several buttons to end the scenario, allowing all objects to fade from the room.  Reaching out with his mind, Charles was able to breach several small holes that had developed in the boy’s shields and send the necessary commands to bring his power under control.  Despite finding a way in through the armor that shielded Remy’s mind, it was still a struggle and after a few tense minutes Charles had it under control.  A scream echoed around the room from the figure before them watching, helpless as he fell over unconscious.  The Professor slumped in his chair, clearly exhausted from the ordeal; taking several deep breaths to calm himself.  

Logan took a moment to assess the Professor, making sure he was unharmed before turning his attention to the boy.  In a full run, he opened the doors to the room and was at the boy’s side within seconds, feeling first for a pulse and then for any breath.  He closed his eyes as his examination showed the boy to be alive and well.  “I’m taking him to the medlab” he yelled to Xavier as he lifted the boy up and strode out of the room.

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose.  He had definitely pushed things a little too far; guilt beginning to push at his mind.  But, he was beginning to understand the boy, having unintentionally caught a glimpse of unpleasant images while attempting to erect a mental force field around that portion of the boy’s mind that controlled his powers.  There was definitely a third mutation; an intense yet uncontrolled power, hidden within the boy.  And there was subtle evidence of mental tampering.  Charles tried to recall the few mutants in the world that could hide manipulations so well; those that could were extremely volatile.  He pushed them to the back of his exhausted mind for later contemplation.  The Professor’s suspicions, however, were confirmed; Remy was definitely an omega class mutant.

********

The first thing he became aware of was the sterile smell of a medical facility.  Instantly his mind associated the smell and rebelled.  In his half-conscious state, his body began to respond on its own, thrashing and whimpering involuntarily at a perceived threat.  He was unrestrained he noted with confusion.  That just didn’t seem right to him.  Focus – he needed to focus.  Vaguely he could make out someone calling to him, the words coming clearer by the moment.

“…own.  No one’s gonna hurt ya.  Calm down.”  Logan was hovering over him, the larger hands holding gently onto Remy’s shoulders as he shook the boy.  

The voice of the older mutant was strangely soothing and Remy’s body relaxed of its own accord while he attempted to open his eyes.  The bright light above him was painful, causing him to cry out slightly at the intense burning.  

“Aw damn.  Sorry ‘bout that.  Chuck, get the lights.”  The order from the feral was met almost immediately as the lights dimmed to a tolerable level.  Remy ventured opening his eyes again, blinking away the spots from the previous attempt.  

“What de hell happened?” Remy groaned as he attempted to prop his body up onto his elbows.  But his head protested violently, sending a surge of nausea through him and causing him to fall back instantly onto the bed.  A trembling hand rose to run fingers through auburn locks, grasping the side of his head, and pushing his palm into his temple to try and ease the ache.

“Relax, Remy.  We pushed a little too hard and you lost control of your powers.  The headache you are experiencing is my fault, I’m afraid.”  The Professor hovered closer to the side of the bed as a guilty look flashed across his face.  “I had to enter your mind briefly to contain your powers.  My deepest apologies.  You will probably have a headache for a little while as the barricade I placed in your mind slowly dissolves.  Your own shields should repair themselves before then.”

Remy cracked his eyes and glared at the telepath, not pleased at all to hear the man had been inside his head.  “What else you do when you be in dere, hehn?”  The question was uttered in barely concealed anger, and the Professor averted his eyes downward in obvious guilt.  “I assure you Remy, I did not wander aimlessly around your mind.  I went in, concentrated on building a wall around your power, and then retreated.  Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And does de assurance of a telepat’ supposed to mean somet’ing to me?”  Remy was in pain.  Remy was nauseous.  And, Remy felt mentally violated.  Therefore, Remy was indignant.  

“Hey kid.  That’s enough.  If Chuck says he didn’t poke around inside your head, then he didn’t.”  Logan leaned forward into Remy’s line of sight, blocking the glare the boy was directing at the Professor.  Eyes widened slightly at the deep blue orbs glittering with concern and irritation.  

“It’s perfectly alright, Logan.  I understand his irritation.  I’ll leave you now so you may rest.  Again, please accept my humble apology.”  The Professor backed out of the room, disappearing through automatic doors that swished closed behind him. 

With a sigh, ruby pupils rolled up to meet closing lids as Remy’s other hand came up to work in tandem with the first, massaging temples to ease the pain in his skull.  The sound of glass clattering along with water being poured caught his attention.  He turned to watch the older mutant move about this…..lab…..no other word for the horrid place that caused Remy’s insides to twist violently.  Logan came back and held both hands towards the boy, a glass of water in one and some pills in the other.  Remy eyed the little white tablets warily, not sure if he trusted these people enough to take their medicines.

Logan cocked one eyebrow at his hesitation.  “Just aspirin.  It’ll help with the headache.”    

“Aspirin?  Non, t’anks.  Can’t take dat.”

“Why the hell not?”  The nonplussed look on Logan’s face would have been comical to Remy if he wasn’t in such agony from the jackhammer ripping merrily away behind his eyeballs.

He pursed his lips for a moment, struggling with the decision to share the answer.  Logan could see the war of emotions raging behind those exotic eyes.  Finally, he gave in, perplexed and a shade frightened by his urge to trust the feral.  “I…I don’ react de same way to medicines dat many do.  Aspirin, even just one, it….it knocks me out.”

A brow rose, questioning what had been said.  “Knocks ya out?  Like a tranquilizer?”

Remy nodded, then immediately regretted it as his head shouted in complaint of the movement.  “Can I just go to my room?  Don’ wanna be here no more.”

The boy started to get up, but Logan pushed him back down.  “Lay back and relax.  Ya took a beating and the medlab is the best place for that.  I wrapped your ankle, looks like it’s sprained, but not too bad.”

“Wanna go back to my room.  I’ll rest better dere.”  Remy looked at Logan with desperate eyes.  Logan didn’t say anything, just stared at the boy perplexed, the question hanging in the air between them.  Remy sighed again before continuing; knowing Logan needed an explanation to his demand.  “Labs and medical places hold……bad memories for me.  Don’ wanna be here.  Please Logan.”  The last part came out almost as a whisper.

Blue eyes softened at the plea; Logan knew only too well the painful response this kind of place could spawn.  “Alright, kid.  C’mon, I’ll help ya.”

Scooping him easily from the bed and lowering his feet to the floor, Logan slowly helped the Cajun back through the house.

End ch 5


	6. Chapter 6

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in first chap

**CH 6**

* flashback *

“How it feel to come to your first Guild meeting, mon petite frere?”  Henry’s eyes were dancing with humor at the nervous boy standing beside him.

Putting on the brave face he didn’t feel, Remy grinned “Dis?  Ah dis be not’ing, Henry.  I can handle it.  Just proves I be a man.” 

“A man, huh?”  Seeing the smug face of his older adopted brother, he knew the lie was transparent. 

He sighed heavily and bowed his head slightly, allowing long auburn bangs to hide his eyes.  “Well, maybe, I be…just a little mind you…scared to death.  Just don’ wanna disappoint poppa.” 

Remy started when he felt the muscular arm of his adopted brother wrap itself around his shoulder.  “You gonna do fine, boy.  Just don’ let de elders see you nervous, s’all.  Dem vipers just waiting for de chance to take poppa’s title from him.  And dey always looking to use you for dat purpose since you not born wit’ Guild blood.”

They entered the large warehouse turned meeting hall for the Thieves Guild of New Orleans.  From under his arm, Henry could feel the slight tremors running through the shoulders of the sixteen year old adopted brother beside him, but he couldn’t be more proud.  It was funny how completely assimilated into the LeBeau clan Remy had become.  The former street rat had only been with the family for a few short years, after being lucky enough to catch Jean Luc’s attention in a failed pick pocketing attempt.  At the time, the Guild doctors and Tante Mattie estimated the boy to be about thirteen years of age.  But it took a long time for him to trust the family and lose the wariness always present in those ruby orbs.  It was sad for one to be old before their time at such a tender age.  But such was the usual short life of a child on the streets.

At the front of the room that was nearly filled to capacity with Guild members sat a long table covered in an ornate ceremonial cloth.  Behind the table were ten men known as the elders.  They were the heads of the various families within the tribe.  At the very center was the most distinguished figure Remy had ever seen, that of the man he had come to call poppa. 

“Remy LeBeau – step forward and assume your place in the circle of honor.”  Jean Luc commanded the boy not as a fatherly figure, but as the patriarch of the Guild. 

Remy moved forward as the crowd parted around him.  Directly in front of the table was a circle drawn in colored chalk, bearing the crest of the Guild of Thieves.  Remy kneeled, bowed his head to all the elders, then lay his body down to assume a prostrate position with his forehead touching the outer top ring.  His toes were planted firmly on the lower portion of the ring and both arms stretched out so his hands could touch each side of the circle.  There was a slight tingling in his fingertips, as there had been on and off for the past few weeks, but Remy ignored it assuming it was his nervousness over the right of passage ceremony.

Jean Luc looked down on the boy, then shifted his gaze to the crowd so that all may hear his words.  “Remy Lebeau – having passed the final test as required by our laws, you have shown yourself to be a master of your profession.  And so, as Guild Master Patriarch, I bestow upon you the title of Master Thief, and present you with the most cherished possession such a title holds.”

Jean Luc rounded the table and stood before the prone boy and chanted something in an ancient dialect.  “Rise, Remy LeBeau, and accept your staff.”

Remy rose to one knee and held out both hands palm side up as a proud father placed the prize within his grasp.  “From this day forward, you shall be known by the codename Gambit.  You have now become one of a select few to have earned this title.  It is no small accomplishment.  You will be expected to live up to this position and bring honor to the Guild in your achievements, for as long as you are a member of this clan.”

Jean Luc leaned forward to clasp a strong hand on Remy’s shoulder, indicating he rise and stand tall.  As he did, his adopted father hugged him and whispered how proud he was into Remy’s ear.  With that, he turned to the rest of the members and proclaimed it a time for celebration.  There were whoops and yells, clapping of hands on his back and congratulatory comments all around.  The food and spirits flowed freely throughout the evening as everyone reveled in the joy of the moment.  It was the first time Remy had partaken of the special brew reserved only for Guild members.  As his mind numbed with the effects, the tingling in his fingertips grew stronger and his head began to ache.  Before he knew it, the mug in his hand started glowing.  With a startled gasp, he flung it from him, watching as the glowing object arched in slow motion towards the elders’ table.  It exploded in a brilliant display, and a chain reaction began, sending Guild members in all directions as chaos ensued.  Grabbing his head in both hands, Remy screamed as objects around him began to glow and explode on contact.  The warehouse creaked and groaned, the foundations shifting to cause the walls to shake and begin to collapse in on itself.

“MON FILS”  He heard his father calling to him and to his brother, but could barely respond.  Everything was a blur as the ceiling pieces fell in great chunks to crush clan members.  The smell of burning flesh and blood, and the cries of men in pain assaulted him.  Remy panicked as he looked around at the chaos he caused.  Everything was on fire or collapsing.  There were dead bodies strewn about, either burned by the flames of exploding objects or crushed by the weight of steel and concrete.   

His eyes lighted on the half buried face of his adopted brother.  “HENRY!!”  He yelled, his throat hoarse from all the screaming he had already done.  But the lifeless eyes of his brother just stared at him, unblinking.  Remy felt someone grab him by the waist, physically lifting him up to haul his carcass to safety.  The tingling sensation he had felt only a short time ago was now gone.

*end flashback*

Remy woke with a start.  “Dieu” he hissed as he brought a hand up to rub his temple.  It had been a while since he had that nightmare, and it had never been quite so vivid as to allow him to actually smell everything.  The words of his father still haunted him in the aftermath of that episode in his life. 

*flashback*

“De remaining elders have ordered your death.  I begged dem for mercy because of your young age.  Dey agreed to your banishment, if I give up my position as patriarch.  Dis I agreed to do.”  Jean Luc could not even look the boy in the eyes as he spoke.

“Non, poppa.  You can’t give up your position.  It mean too much to you.”  Remy pleaded with the man to see reason.  His guilt overwhelmed him and he would rather be put to death than see his father suffer any more.

It was then that Jean Luc looked into Remy’s eyes, great sadness and resignation displayed so plainly on his face.  “It mean not’ing to me.  Too many Guild members were killed tonight.  Dey won’t follow me no more.  Besides, my heir is dead.”  The unspoken ‘by your hand’ hung in the air like smog between them, and Remy flinched at the implication.  “Go, mon fils.  Never come back.  I can’t look on you no more and my heart is heavy at de loss of both my chil'uns dis day.”  With that, the man that had taken him in and given him a new reason to live turned his back on Remy and walked away, not looking back once.

*end flashback*

“Merde” Remy whispered as he angrily wiped the tears from his eyes.  He felt like an old drunk with a bad next day hangover.  He didn’t remember making it back to his room or falling asleep, which means that Logan must have brought him back.  At least he was no longer in that damn lab, the very thought of which sent a shiver down his spine.  Glancing around to the digital clock beside his table, it was early afternoon which meant he had slept only a scant amount.  Funny how only a short amount of time had passed when the dream seemed to last forever.  The sun through the window was high in the sky, but slowly making it’s descent towards the horizon.  He had obviously missed lunch, which was just as well seeing as how his stomach didn’t feel up to cooperating at the moment.  Sick of lying in bed, Remy decided to move around, hoping that activity might make him feel better.

Making his way downstairs and out the front door, he noticed that Storm was working in the garden and decided to head that direction.  As he approached her, the feelings of euphoria surrounded him, easing the throbbing behind his eyes.  She was humming softly as her hands worked the rich soil of the garden. 

“Need some help?” Remy donned his most charming smile as he knelt down beside her.

“I would love some, Remy.  Thank you for asking.”  She handed over a trowel and directed him to dig some small holes for her. 

Despite the chill of the day before with the onset of fall, today was quite warm as if summer was making one last attempt to hold on.  More than likely the humidity from the previous night’s rains was to blame for the unusual elevated temperatures, but Ororo was not one to complain when good weather allowed her time in the garden.  Not that she couldn’t make the weather around her pleasant.  She simply chose to let mother nature run things as her Goddess saw fit, never interfering with her gift unless it was necessary.

As he worked, sweat broke out on his brow and his breathing became labored.  Remy didn’t do sun and heat.  Well, the heat he could tolerate usually.  One didn’t grow up in the state of Louisiana and not become accustomed to wet heat that was rivaled only by the temperatures in hell, welcome it even in the bitter cold that was the north.  But the sun was a completely different story.  He was, by default, a creature of the night.  It didn’t help that he was nursing a bad hangover from whatever the Professor had done to him.  Remy could feel the sun baking his pale skin, a nasty burn just waiting to happen, and he started to droop.  Sensitive red on black eyes squinted and teared up at the brightness all around.  Ororo noticed him, equating him with a flower that wilts under heat and drought.  Briefly her eyes turned white, and a small gray cloud appeared over the boy to shade him from the onslaught of the sun.  The wind blew lightly over his skin, cooling him instantly and he glanced up at the woman beside him to see her smiling. 

Returning the smile with gratitude, he said “T’anks, chere.”

“You are quite welcome.”  She returned to her work, resuming the humming as she went.

They worked together for several hours, periodically asking each other general questions, though he was very careful what he revealed to her.  Every so often, he would say something to make her laugh outright.  From his vantage point on the porch where he appeared earlier to watch them, Logan strained to hear what was being said, but failed to grasp anything.  He made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, content to just watch them.

“I see we have an audience.” She said after a while, never once turning to glance in Logan’s direction.

“Yeh, I noticed.  He always like dat or are we just special?”  Remy scooped some dirt over one of the bulbs she placed in a previous hole.

“Logan is an observer of human nature.  He won’t admit it, but I believe he loves to people watch.  Though I have to admit he very rarely spends time observing my gardening skills.  Then again, I almost never have an assistant working with me.”  She didn’t elucidate further, but Remy caught the meaning behind her words nonetheless.

Remy chewed his bottom lip as he tried to analyze the situation.  He thought back over the day before, when he felt mixed emotions from the feral during the tour.  He recalled the previous night, when the older man let him pass with the bag of food he had stolen from the pantry.  And the way Logan acted in the med lab when Remy came around, showing concern and something else.  It was starting to add up for him and the sum of the parts caused a flutter in his gut that he couldn’t yet name.  Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that Ororo had reached over to gently pry the trowel from his hand.  She patted him on the shoulder to gain his attention.  “Where did you go?”

He had the decency to look guilty for briefly tuning her out.  “M’sorry, chere.  Just daydreaming I guess.”

Ororo smiled warmly at him as she moved to stand, signaling the end of the day’s work.  “He is a good man Remy, loyal to a fault to those that he holds dear.  He is not one to take to another soul so readily.  To have caught his interest, there must be something special about you indeed.  Remember that.”  Patting his shoulder one last time, she headed away from him towards the gardening shed. 

Remy sighed and glanced towards the porch to the man sitting there smoking a cigar.  He really didn’t know what to make of anything.  His own feelings were just as mixed up.  Remy dusted himself off and headed towards the feral, noting the older man tense slightly as he approached.

“See yer feeling better.  Was worried about ya there for a moment.”  Logan chewed on the end of his cigar as he watched the boy draw closer.  “Got anything ya wanna talk about regarding what happened in the Danger Room?”

“Non” The reply was curt he realized.  Taking a breath, Remy decided that Logan really didn’t deserve to be talked to in such a way when he was only trying to help.  “T’anks, mon ami, for everyt’ing.  Don’t t’ink I coulda made it to my room wit’out your help.”

Logan puffed on the stoagie for a moment.  “S’alright, kid.  Why don’t ya go on in and get cleaned up for supper.  I’m cooking tonight.”  He smiled wide as he turned to look at the boy.  “Hope you like meatball poboys.”

Recognizing the change in topic for what it was, he returned the grin while shifting a piece of his long hair behind his ear.  “Oui.  Sounds bon, homme.  Why don’t y' add some cayenne pepper to de mix to spice it up some?”

Logan chuckled.  “We’ll see.”  Remy moved past the older man towards the door when Logan called after, causing him to pause.  “Tomorrow morning, you start working with me.  Gonna teach ya how to meditate to help ya learn control.”   

Remy blinked at the feral for a moment, then nodded his head in understanding before making his way back into the house.

End ch 6


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair, at first.  The tension between Remy and the Professor was palpable.  Ororo did her best to ease the situation, chattering about every little thing from the weather to the lessons for upcoming classes.  Even Logan joined in the attempt to smooth things out.  Remy absently pushed the sandwich around his plate, feeling their nervousness and determination to ease the proceedings.  He could also feel the overwhelming and sincere guilt flowing from the older man at the end of the table.  Remy knew the Professor had not maliciously invaded his mind and he struggled to assure himself this was the truth.  

“How is your head, Remy?”  Xavier asked gently.  It was evident the older man wanted desperately to put the whole fiasco behind him and move forward.

Never one to see someone suffer because of him, he finally made a decision and sighed inwardly to himself before making an attempt at forgiveness.  “S’better.”  Remy paused a moment before looking up at the head of the table and locking eyes with the man.  “Don’t worry none.  You didn’t know what would happen.  But, t’ank you for helping to block it, Professeur.  T’ink I would have made quite a mess, if you hadn’t stopped it.”

Xavier blinked for a moment, before a slight smile formed on his lips.  Relief flowed over Remy’s senses so strongly that he nearly gasped.  “Thank you, young man.  I promise I will never go where I am not invited or needed.”

There was awkward silence for a moment and Remy felt heat rising to his cheeks.  He never liked being the center of attention; it usually caused him more problems than not.  Remy lowered his gaze to his plate and proceeded to tackle the sub that Logan had prepared, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he felt the others return their focus to other things besides him.  As he bit into the Italian dish, he was pleasantly surprised at the spicy red peppers that gave the meal a whole new tang.  His eyes snapped up to catch the feral watching him closely, and he couldn’t help but smile at the man for taking his earlier half-hearted request so seriously.  Logan smiled back and turned his attention back to Ororo as she prattled on about repairs to the greenhouse.

The rest of the meal was, unexpectedly, pleasant.  The Cajun felt odd at having such a comfortable dinner with people who were still essentially strangers to him.  It was calming and, he dared to think, family-like.  A longing stirred within that he couldn’t quite clamp down.  It had been too long since he felt this way, even if that time before had been all too brief.  He found himself wondering what his adoptive father was doing at this very moment.  As suddenly as the feelings arose, however, he quashed them sourly, recalling that he no longer had an adoptive father thanks to his special gifts.

Remy was startled out of his thoughts by the deep voice of the Canadian.  “How’s the foot, Cajun?  I noticed ya weren’t limping earlier.”

“S’much better, t’anks.  Don’t t’ink it was sprained like we first t’ought.  Maybe more a little bruised.  But, Remy always been a quick healer.”  He took another bite of the spicy meat, thinking nothing of the answer he had just provided.

Xavier lifted a brow.  “Really?  Interesting.  Do you have mutant healing factor as well, then?”

Remy paused mid-chew as he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring back at him.  Swallowing hard the remaining bits in his mouth, he shook his head.  “Non.  Not a healing factor.  Can’t heal dat fast, just a little quicker dan reg'lar humans.  Got somet’ing to do with my metabolism, I t’ink.”  _/After all, de master can’t really enjoy fucking with his toys when dey all beat to pieces/_ he thought bitterly.

“I see.  Perhaps when Dr. McCoy returns from Washington, you might let him obtain a sample of your blood for further study.”  Not quite a question from the Professor, but not quite a demand either.

Remy blanched; all the color draining from his fast so fast that Logan thought he might pass out.  He could smell the fear rising on the kid as well and, remembering the boy’s desperation to escape the med lab previously, decided a change in topic was needed.  “Hey kid, ya any good with engines?”

It took the Cajun less that a moment to process and catch onto the new subject like a life preserver.  “Oui.  Like to rebuild dem, especially motorcycles.”

Logan put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands loosely under his chin.  “I thought that might be your bike in the garage.  Ya like bikes?  Hell, that’s great!  Been looking for a riding buddy for quite a while.  Slim’s about the only other one that rides around here and he’s usually too busy.  We could use another pair of mechanical hands around the place, too.  ‘Ro here damn near works me to the bone with that greenhouse and all her gardening nonsense.”

“Logan!  That is quite untrue and rather mean.”  Ororo started in a huff.  “Do you even realize how much it takes to keep the grounds under control and looking descent?  Well-maintained tools are essential.”  She paused to wipe her mouth with her napkin, allowing a smile to appear before continuing.  “If you would just fix them correctly the first time, perhaps I would not have to keep after you.”

And thus a lively and somewhat animated discussion began between the two.  Remy just smirked and the meal continued with no more touchy questions.  When everyone was finished, the Professor and Ororo both excused themselves after complimenting the chef.  It was Remy’s duty to clean the dishes and he started clearing the table.  Logan didn’t feel like retiring with the others and decided to help the boy.  

With an handful, Logan passed Remy through the swinging door as the boy came from the kitchen to collect more of the plates on the table.  It was quite amazing the amount of kitchenware soiled with only four people eating.  Remy dreaded having dish duty when all the children and other adults were present for meals.  He was just about to push through the door with his arms loaded when Logan came through first and paused right in front of him, blocking his path.  Logan looked up at the boy for a moment, then chuckled.  

Remy cocked his head to one side.  “What’s so funny, homme?”

“Ya got some sauce on the side of your mouth.”  He stated as he pointed with a finger towards Remy’s face.  He watched, fascinated, as a pink tongue darted out trying to swipe at the remnants unsuccessfully.

“Here, lemme.”  Logan lifted his hand to the boy’s face to use his thumb to gently wipe the red sauce away.  But, as he touched the corner of Remy’s lips, his fingers lingered, drawn by something intense that could not be explained.  Logan was mesmerized and simply stared into those exotic orbs.  

Remy was lost for a moment, captured by the soft blue eyes of the older man before he came to himself as a tingling sensation rose on his skin, under the feral’s fingers.  He took a step back, causing Logan’s hand to fall away.  Remy sidestepped the feral, wiping the side of his face with the sleeve on his bicep, and muttered a thank you as he quickly passed the man.  Logan didn’t turn to look at him, but rather brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked off the sauce.  “Sweet and spicy” he whispered to himself, before a broad grin broke out on his face.  He continued his original forward motion to grab the last remaining items and followed the boy into the kitchen.     

“Ya got plans again tonight, bub?”  Remy was standing rigid at the sink washing the dishes and pots.  The older man came to stand beside him, grabbing a towel to begin drying.  

“Non.  But, maybe we can play some cards, if you want.  Not really tired at de moment.”  Remy handed a dish towards the feral as he spoke, but misjudged his grasp.  The plate slipped.  Both men lunged to catch it before it shattered on the ground, simultaneously reaching forward.  As if in slow motion, their outstretched hands brushed past each other.  The soft blue crackles of plasma sparked from Remy’s fingers, flickering across Logan’s palm.  The feral stiffened at the gentle electric caress, his fingers involuntarily flexing back, opening his palm further as the sparks bounced off his skin.   A rising electric heat flowed through Remy’s fingers, drawing slowly up his arm and across his chest.  They both stared at each other, surprised by the powerful static charge jumping between them.  In an instant, Remy snatched his hand away, the heat bringing with it a flush to his cheeks.  He turned abruptly back to the task before him and continued on as if nothing had happened.  

But something had happened and they both felt it.  Logan watched the younger man’s profile and inhaled the mixture of confusion, fear, and rising lust.  The realization dawned on him that the emotions he sensed from the boy were mirrored in his own feelings, and his brow furrowed at the thought. 

Remy fixed his gaze on the soapy water, “Why don’ you go on and get de cards ready, maybe get us some beers.  I’ll be along in a minute, after I finish up here.”  He needed to be alone for a moment, to gather himself.  It was quite obvious to Logan, as Remy dismissed the older mutant.  But Logan didn’t argue, feeling like a little distance would do him some good, too.  Remy stood stock still as Logan slung the dishrag over his shoulder and moved over to the refrigerator.   He rummaged for a brew and pushed open the kitchen door, leaving the boy alone.

As the door to the kitchen clicked shut, Remy’s hands stilled then grasped the edges of the sink, as his knees buckled and he slumped against the sink.  He closed his eyes and lowered his head, his heart pounding, muttering to himself.  “What be your problem, Remy LeBeau.  You acting like a virgin on a first date.”  He shook his head to clear his thoughts and opened his eyes.  Standing up straight, he focused on his task, but his finger ends still tingled from the sparks.       

After his duties were completed, he made his way slowly to the recreational room.  There was a mixture of excitement and apprehension rolling through his stomach as he approached.  Steeling himself, he put on his favorite mask and casually entered, sitting himself across the table from the feral.

Logan didn’t even look up at the boy, just slid over a bottle and start shuffling.  “Poker alright with ya?” he growled.

“Oui.  What we play for?”  Remy reached down and collected his cards, organizing them in his hand.

Logan placed the deck face down on the table and grabbed his own hand, before looking up to catch the kid’s eyes.  His gaze was hard, fixing the Cajun with a dark glare, as he answered the question.  “Information.”

End ch 7  
 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

CH 8

“Dem’s high stakes for such a simple game, mon ami.”

Logan raised a brow.  “Dem’s de shakes, Cajun.”  he replied mockingly.

The adventurer within clamored for the challenge, while the rational part of Remy’s mind screamed to run away.  He had played these stakes once too often and lost, both physically and mentally, too many times before.  But, the feral’s persistence piqued his curiosity and he felt drawn to the card table.  Quietly sitting down opposite the feral, he accepted the challenge, but with one condition.

“Only one question per winning hand.”

“Fine.” Was all the reply he was given.  Logan had already shuffled the cards.  “Straight poker, nothing wild, jokers out.”  He ordered, not looking up as he dealt the first round.

The first hand was nothing extraordinary.  Remy discarded three cards, hoping for something better.  In the end, he had a pair of kings.  But it wasn’t enough to beat Logan’s two pair.

“Guess the first round goes to me.”  Logan smirked, collecting up the cards.  He looked thoughtful for a moment, fixing his eyes over Remy’s shoulder on the book case beyond.  Remy felt suddenly awkward.  “Tell me about yer family.”

Remy frowned.  Maybe playing this game with Logan wasn’t such a good idea after all.  He would have to be shrewd and make sure to find a way to skirt the answers, while following the rules.  A grin spread across Remy’s delicate features.  “Dat ain’t a question, homme.”

Logan blinked at the quick retort.  / _The boy’s sharp…So, it’s gonna be like that, huh_ /  “Ok, ya got any kinfolk back in Louisiana?”

“Non”  Remy admitted easily.  He could tell Logan was fishing for something, that perhaps the man knew of the LeBeau family of the New Orleans Thieves Guild.  But, there were quite a few families with that particular last name; not all of them necessarily related to the former leading clan of the guild.  Besides, to Remy, kinfolk meant blood relations.  And as far as Remy knew, he had no known biological family.

Logan focused all his senses on the boy, seeking out any untruths.  Either the kid had more control over his internal reactions than most, or he was being honest.  The only way Logan would know for sure would be to catch him in a lie.  Assuming his luck held out, he would spring something on the younger man in a few rounds.

The next hand went to Remy, who decided to ask the same question of Logan, though he was careful to change the word kinfolk to family.  “I don’t really know.”  Logan said truthfully.  He decided that if he wanted the boy to be honest, he would have to be as well.  “I don’t really have any memories of growing up.  And some of the memories I do have ain’t real.”

Remy stared at the feral a little bemused by his answer / _not real, hmm_ /, but the feelings of sincerity issuing from the big man planted a seed of compassion firmly in his conscious.  Quickly he shoved it to the back of his mind, determined to keep his focus.

Cards flew back and forth between the dealer and the player.  Remy won another round and asked Logan how long he had been at the mansion.  “Several years now.  Came here a different person than I am now.  They….helped me gain control over myself, helped me see there was something better out there to live for.”

Remy thought about that statement.  It seemed to contradict, yet again, everything he had been told about this place.  He was beginning to wonder if, in fact, he had been told the truth about anything these people were involved in.  The thought didn’t sit well with him.  While he had no problem fulfilling a mission against monsters equal in deeds to his boss, he agonized over possibly destroying innocents.  The deck being slapped down in front of him brought him from his thoughts. 

Another round went to Remy and the boy glanced up at the feral through the spill of auburn bangs covering his face.  “What be your power, mon ami?”  Remy thought he already knew this, but wanted the older man to confirm it. 

Logan picked up the deck and shuffled again as he shrugged.  “Well, one of ‘em is a healing factor.”

Remy’s brows shot up to his hairline.  It was not the answer he expected from the feral.  “You have more dan one?  Dieu, how many you have anyway?”

Logan grinned as he started dealing the cards.  “That’s more than one question, Gumbo.  Gonna hafta win another hand, ‘fore I can answer that.”  He almost laughed at the scowl the younger man attempted to hide.  / _Turn about’s fair play, kid_./

Remy made a face at the new nickname, but said nothing.  He got into the spirit of the stakes, brain thinking feverishly ahead to questions he wanted to ask.  He was so caught up that he lost focus on his current hand and wound up with nothing, allowing Logan to win another question.  “Why are ya so afraid of the medlab, kid?”

He watched as the boy chewed his bottom lip for a moment before sighing.  “Told you before, homme, had some bad experiences with doctors and labs.”  Logan was disappointed.  He knew he was potentially wasting a question, but he hoped the younger man would share a little more detail.  Sensing this, Remy sighed again.  “Look, Remy don’t like to talk ‘bout it, ‘cause it cause nightmares.  Mas, believe Remy when he say, bad t’ings done happened to dis poor boy in de name of science.”

Logan didn’t need any more explanation, having experienced some of it himself.  He also didn’t miss the switch to third person in the boy’s speech.  Whatever had been done to the kid had been bad enough to cause a disassociate pattern.  Dropping the subject, they moved to the next round.

The next two hands went to Remy.  If Logan hadn’t been dealing the cards himself, he would have sworn the kid was cheating.

“Now, what be all your powers, homme?”

Logan sat back and pulled out a cigar from his shirt pocket.  “Well, I have enhanced senses.  Ya know - hearing, sight, that kinda of thing.  Comes with my feral nature.  Also stronger than most.  The third power ain’t a natural mutation though.”  He brought the cigar in front of him, holding it by fingertips on one end.  “The other…well, let’s just say it’s man-made.”  Logan brought up his other hand and fisted it, popping out a single adamantium claw which he used to cut off the end of the cigar. 

Remy instinctively jumped back in his chair, as the cards in his hand lit up with energy. “Merde!” His eyes grew as wide as saucers, the red glowing slightly in awe of the sight.  Logan had expected to smell fear, but as the boy regained his composure and leaned forward to inspect the blade, Logan was surprised by the feelings of interest and curiosity radiating from him.

A grin made its way onto Remy’s face, as he locked eyes with the feral.  “Dieu, bet dat come in handy, non?” Remy asked, gingerly reaching out a finger to touch the razor-sharp claw.

“Can be.” Logan replied, suddenly re-sheathing the claw before the boy had a chance to make contact, causing the poor Cajun to jump again.  Logan grinned inwardly.

When the next hand was won, Remy asked about the powers of the other members of the team.  Logan was cautious in what he told him, giving only an overview of some of the adults’ powers.  He explained about Storm’s abilities to control the elements, as well as Jean’s power of telepathy and telekinesis.  He shared several other members’ powers before he decided it was enough.  “The rest of ‘em you’ll just have to discover on yer own.”

Remy accepted that and the game was on again.  Finally, Logan had a winning hand.  “Earlier ya said ya had no family.  Ya gotta have come from somewhere.  Who raised ya?” 

Remy swallowed hard at the question.  What should he tell him?  He put his cards down slowly and turned to look at the fireplace as he thought about how to answer.  “Don’t have any blood family.  Remy grew up on de streets.  Don’t know how it happen.”  Remy laughed bitterly.  “Heh, don’t even know how old I am.”  He could feel water forming in his eyes and he stubbornly blinked it back.  It was the past and there was nothing he could do to change it.  “Was taken in by de LeBeau family, when I was somet’ing like t’irteen.  Dey say I was ‘bout dat old anyway.”  A slight curving of his lips upward at the memory, he turned back to look at the older man.  “Gave ‘em hell in de beginning.  Mas, dey put up with it.  Dey was good people.”

Logan tilted his head and frowned as he thought about the boy growing up on the streets.  He had been around a long time and was no fool.  A child in that type of environment would….“So what happened to 'em?” 

The younger man smirked, as he repeated what the feral had said earlier.  “Dat be more dan one question, homme.” 

It was enough to lighten the moment and Logan chuckled.  “Alright, Cajun.  Another round.”

A clock in the hallway chimed to announce the hour.  At least two chimes had passed since they began the game, the beers they consumed long since gone.  The cards were dealt and again Logan won.  “Why are ya **really** here, Remy?”

He knew that some of the questions would be tough, the stakes high.  But, he truly did not expect it.  It smacked of accusation and distrust, causing him to anger instantly at possibly being discovered.  “Told ya before.  Here to learn how to control my powers.”

“That ain’t a good enough answer.  Ya seem to have pretty good control to me.”  Logan challenged.

Remy flinched.  He opened his mouth, then shut it again before deflating into his chair.  There was no way he could tell this man that he was on a mission for Magneto to steal from them.  So, he decided to use the reason he first sought help.  “Dere was an accident in N’Awlins.  Lost control of my powers and a lot of people got killed.”  He looked up to face the older man.  “Including my brother.  My pere….he don’t want me ‘round no more.  It hurts too much for him.  My fault….all my fault.” 

The overwhelming sadness rolling off the boy was enough for Logan to believe he was telling the truth.  “I’m sorry, kid.”

Red eyes glowed brightly, as supple young lips pressed tightly together in a grim line.  “Don’t need your pity, homme.  Just deal de damn cards.”

Chewing on the end of his cigar, Logan did just that.  “Full house, mon ami.  Kings over Queens.  Guess de next question’s mine.”

Logan blew out a plume of smoke.  “Not so fast, bub.”  He laid his hand down to reveal a royal straight flush. 

Remy could only blink at that, before flinging his own hand down.  “Merde.  Look like Lady Luck with you tonight.”       

The older man grinned, as he collected the cards.  “Looks that way.  Alright Cajun, what are **all** yer powers?”

The Acadian stared blankly at the feral.  “You already seen my powers, homme.  Can charge any non-living t’ing and see better dan most in de dark.”

And there was the lie that Logan had waited for.  “Ya sure ‘bout that?  Seems to me ya haven’t shown ‘em all.”

Remy’s heart started racing as he breathing picked up.  There was no way the feral missed his body’s betrayal.  “I t’ink I’m done for de night.  Been fun playing mon ami, mas I’m a bit tired.” 

Remy made to stand when Logan reached out and grabbed his wrist.  The contact made the boy gasp, as the warm tingle started flowing through him again.  He closed his eyes at the feelings that were building; the lust and excitement flowed off the man holding him captive.  Licking lips that had suddenly gone dry, Logan could only stare at the point where skin touched skin. 

“What happened in the kitchen, Remy?” Logan growled.

“Je ne sais pas” he whispered as a hot shiver made its way through his body.  Swallowing hard, he tried to take control of himself wrenching his arm away from the tight feral grip.  Turning to face the older man, Remy stepped backwards just beyond reach, as he answered.  “Maybe de metal inside you react with my electrics?” He tried to smile casually, but the clamminess growing on the back of his neck made him feel awkward and uncomfortable.  “Probably be best if we don’t make contact again, hehn?”  Spinning on his heels, he made his escape from the room, his heart clenching at the thought that he could never allow himself to touch the feral again.  The delicious tingle was already sorely missed.

Logan sighed and leaned back in his chair, puffing on the last of the cigar as the door closed behind the boy.  “Yeh, that may be for the best.” He murmured to the empty chair opposite, though he was fairly sure he didn’t mean it.  

End ch 8


	9. Chapter 9

**CH 9**

 

/ _842_ /

 

That’s how many pebbles there were embedded in the first textured tile in the far corner of the ceiling, directly above the head of the bed in Remy’s room.  Ruby orbs slanted towards the digital clock beside his bed and noted the reading of 3:15 am.  With a sigh, he turned back to the ceiling, deciding he needed to do something even more mundane to lull himself to sleep.  He had already tried counting sheep, but that scene kept turning into a mini-Disney movie complete with singing animals.  The vision had provoked a wistful grin from the thief.  / _Not as jaded as most would t’ink_./  He started counting the tiles in his room, using only the glow of moonlight peaking through his window as a guide.  His extraordinary night vision didn’t require much light to take in the surroundings.  He continued to count, but his mind wandered to the events of the day.

 

Logan had gotten under his skin and Remy didn’t know exactly what to make of it.  It wasn’t so much that he knew the older man was attracted to him; hell, he had been with enough people over the years to realize his looks were his greatest asset.  He’d had no need to use his charm, and had been keeping it under tight control, as was evident by the nagging, constant headache from keeping his shields in place.  Rather, it was that electric spark and his own reactions to the feral that irked him.  In all the times he had been with another, whether willingly or not, he had never felt this way; never felt so willing to drop his mask and let the big man feel the tingling sensation that tracked through his body when they… touched……

 

Damn, he lost count. 

 

Remy started again, trying to focus on the monotonous task of counting tiles that he hoped would bring his mind some peace.  Half-way through the second row, he wandered off again.  He chastised himself for actually opening up to the feral’s questions.  That was so unlike him.  Only once before had he ever done that, he thought as a twinge of pain rose over the loss of his adopted father and brother.  There was something about Logan that attracted him.  And what about the spark of electricity?  While it was true that the older man had metal within him, that metal was still surrounded by living flesh and blood; something which Remy just could not charge…or rather couldn’t charge before.  He recalled the blocks that his master had removed to help this little ruse play out more realistically.  Was he beginning to lose control again?  The thought sent a bolt of fear through his body, memories threatening to overwhelm him.  Everything he had done and endured, from the thieving and whoring to the severe punishments, were nothing compared to the possibility of killing again.  There was no doubt in his mind that, if his power surged out of control enough to kill, that he would lose what little of his soul was left.  He made a promise to himself to end his own life, before allowing his abilities to end others.

 

“Merde” he hissed to himself as he realized he would once again have to start over.  With renewed effort and determination, he focused everything on counting the tiles.  Ironically, the very exercise designed to help him fall asleep was undoubtedly causing the opposite; his mind focusing on the task with diligence.  After successfully counting the tiles, now he needed to calculate the amount of acoustic texturing that might be on the ceiling.  Assuming each panel had approximately 850 pebbles, multiplying that by the number of tiles.  _/…carry de one/_   Finally, he had his answer.  Pleased, he smiled with the thought that, if nothing else, several hours must have passed.  Casting a glance towards the side table, his smile faltered as he read the digital face blinking 3:27 am; twelve minutes passing in all this time.  With a groan, he flung an arm across his eyes.  It was one of those nights, where the mind races and sleep eludes.  Perhaps there were other things he could do?  He thought for a moment.  It was too late to take the Morlocks food; he would never make it to the city and back before the light of day.  Moving around downstairs was sure to invite the light-sleeping feral next door; something that Remy wasn’t ready to face yet.  He had no books to read; he really needed to remedy that fairly soon.  With a sigh, he decided to remain in bed and hope that sleep would claim him.  Before long, it did just that as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

 

He was awakened a scant two hours later by a heavy knock on the door.  At first, he thought it was a dream.  But no, he hadn’t been asleep long enough to actually start dreaming.  The rapping sound came again and Remy slowly opened his eyes.  He staggered out of bed, heedless of his nude body, and made his way to the bedroom door.  Logan was just about to knock once more, his knuckles raised, when the door swung open to reveal a ruffled young man with a scowl on his face.

 

“QUOI?”  Remy demanded a little louder than he intended, as he braced one hand on the frame and kept the other on the knob of the door, his eyes half closed with sleep. 

 

Logan blinked, then drew his eyes slowly down the figure in front of him.  To say he didn’t appreciate the picture was to say the Earth was flat.  As consciousness finally roused him and the realization of his nakedness dawned, Remy had the strange urge to cover himself.  He had never been ashamed of his body.  It was a tool to be used for gain, just like any other, and he was accustomed to the admiring stares he received.  But this was different and he frowned at the sudden onset of modesty. 

 

Determined not to let the man get under his skin again, he threw his chin up defiantly.  “Somet’ing I can do for you?”

 

Logan leered at the young man for a moment, making his appreciation of the thief’s body all too clear.  “Maybe another time, Cajun.  Right now, it’s time to start yer session.  Be in my room in ten minutes.”  With that, he started to turn, but paused as he glanced back.  “And just so ya don’t misunderstand, pants are required.”

 

Remy flushed with shame, as he watched the back of the feral disappear into the other room.  It wasn’t like he meant to flash the older man.  He just wasn’t thinking in his groggy state.  Slamming the door closed, he gathered his things and headed for the showers.  “Salaud” he muttered to himself, before moving down the hall.

 

Ten minutes later, Remy found himself standing outside the older man’s room, his hair still damp from the wash.  The door was slightly ajar in invitation, so he pushed it open and slipped into the room.  Logan’s room was similar to Remy’s in appearance and furniture, yet there were some personalizations of interest.  His eyes were drawn to a katana sheathed in an ornate cover, resting atop a black stand on the dresser.  There were various framed pictures about the walls depicting views of the Canadian mountains, as well as oriental settings. 

 

Remy strolled over to the nightstand and carefully lifted a rose made out of paper.  “What dis?”

 

Logan was laying out two cushioned mats on the floor, facing the dresser on which the sword stood, when he paused to look at what the boy was holding.  “It’s origami.  That’s Japanese for paper folding.  Rogue….one of the students made it for me in art class.”

 

“Oh.  Kinda like making a paper airplane, neh?” he absently remarked as he studied the form.

 

Logan shrugged.  “Yeh, I guess.  Ready?” 

 

Remy gently lowered the flower back to its original place and moved over to where the feral was stretching.  With his arms folded across his chest in a defensive posture, he watched the older man.  “What you want me to do?”

 

“Stretch.”  Said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  So Remy began to do just that.  First he bent at the waist, lowering his arms slowly, until his fingers laid flat on the floor while his legs remained straight.  He stayed that way through several deep breaths, before shifting the legs apart to work the inner thighs.  After lunging a few times, going deeper and lower with each step, Remy stood upright and raised his arms above his head to reach for an imaginary spot on the ceiling.  His eyes remained closed the whole time, thus he failed to notice his shirt riding up to teasingly bare a pale strip of skin, much to Logan’s enjoyment.  The slow burn, as his muscles pulled and loosened, teetered between pain and pleasure, and Remy found it difficult to suppress a gratified moan.  Rather, he rotated his head languidly in circles around his shoulders. 

 

Slowly opening his eyes, he smirked as he watched the older man staring at him hungrily.  “What now, homme?”

 

“Now we need ya to find a focal point.”  At the boy’s obvious confusion, Logan continued.  “See that katana there?  I focus on that, clearing my mind of all external distractions, until all I see is the sword, at which point I can begin to ride out any emotions, narrowing it down to reach a state of peace.” 

 

Logan looked around his room to search for a suitable object, when Remy whipped out a card and held it in front of the feral.  “Will dis do?” 

 

Logan nodded and then glanced enquiringly at the younger man.  “A Joker?  You pick that because it’s a wild card?”

 

Remy smiled sadly, his eyes losing focus for a moment as he fingered the face of the card.  “Non.  It because he’s a fool.” 

 

The boy was in another world already and the session had only just begun.  Logan frowned and stepped forward to slowly remove the card from Remy’s fingers.  The movement shook the thief loose from self imposed hypnosis, and he merely winked at the feral as if to show the man that all was well.  Logan stood the card against the dresser drawer on the floor directly in front of the first pillow and instructed Remy to sit cross-legged.  For his part, he moved to the cushion directly behind the boy and joined him on the floor. 

 

“Now clear your mind and focus on the card.  If ya get distracted, then close yer eyes and see the card in yer mind.”

 

Remy rolled his eyes and stared at the joker.  What in the world this was supposed to accomplish was beyond him.  It seemed more a waste of time than anything else.  As if reading his thoughts, Logan explained.  “The purpose of this is to learn how to relax, to find peace in yourself.  It’s also a way to heal yourself emotionally.  By finding a balance within, ya’ll be able to control yer powers better.”

 

The older man pressed a hand to Remy’s back.  Feeling the kid immediately tense at the unexpected contact, he yanked his hand away as if burned.  Clearing his throat he fought to keep his voice steady.  “Straighten the back up a bit, try to keep yer muscles relaxed, drop yer shoulders.”  He placed the tips of his fingers onto Remy’s shoulders, gently pushing them down, determined not to increase the area of contact any more than necessary.  “Focus on yer object and concentrate on yer breathing.  Ya’ll start to pick up on things with yer senses, if ya just let yerself go.”

 

Remy tried to focus but he felt distracted by the ghost of the touch on his back and the heat of the man sitting closely behind him.  His breathing increased and his arms twitched slightly with nervous energy.

 

“Ya gotta try and relax.  Concentrate on the card.”  Logan murmured.  Remy noted how surprisingly gentle the big man’s voice could be. Logan continued.  “Trace the outline of the picture with yer eyes, until you can see it in detail when yer eyes are closed.”  Logan paused a moment and was pleased to see the boy’s arms relax into stillness.  “Now, think about breathing.  Inhale through yer mouth slowly, let yer lungs fill right to the bottom.”  Remy breathed in. “hold it ‘til the count of four, then exhale it slowly through yer mouth.”  He followed the instructions, listening to Logan as he too kept to the steady pattern of breaths.  A stillness descended on the room, only the deep repetitive breathing of the two men broke the silence.  “Now”, Logan finally spoke, “try to breathe deeply in through yer nose, out through yer mouth.”  Remy complied, the smell of feral filling his nostrils and sending a shiver down his spine.  Driving his focus away from his instructor, he stared harder at the card.  Logan murmured his approval in a soft low voice as he heard the kid catch onto the technique instantly.

 

Remy focused ever deeper and started to drift, relaxing despite himself.  / _Must keep hold of my shields_./  He became acutely aware of the sound of his breathing, the wind lightly blowing just beyond the window pane, and the proximity of the man sitting directly behind him.  For his part, Logan was having difficulty centering his attention on his focal point.  His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of the boy in front of him.  He slowly lowered his eyes to the auburn mane, noticing the sheen and silkiness as it fell across the boy’s shoulders.  His eyes drifted lower to take in the curves of his neck, as it blended into the shoulder, and the sharp protrusions of the blades in Remy’s back.  / _No wonder the kid was stealing food; he’s nearly skin and bone_./  Not that it bothered Logan to see that skin and bone.  His line of vision followed the spine down to the curve of the boy’s buttocks and hips, and he found his throat running dry.  He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate.  There was no way he was going to be a decent teacher of meditation techniques, if he couldn’t rein in his own hormones.  The reactions he was having to this newcomer were strange.  He hadn’t felt this way about another since……

 

Logan jerked his chin up and forced himself to concentrate on the katana.  Regulating his thoughts as he had learned to master so long ago, he listened to the kid and smiled as he recognized the trance-like quality and steady breathing.  It might not take as long to teach Remy how to take advantage of the relaxation techniques as he initially thought, but Logan would enjoy it for as long as it did.

 

He managed to meditate after all, despite the delicious distraction in front of him.  After some time passed, he took one last deep breath.  Speaking low and soft, he began to bring the boy back.  “Let yer mind begin to find its way back to the room, focus on the things around ya; the noises outside, the clock ticking.  Make a ball with yer fists, squeeze them tight and release, flex yer fingers and feel the blood flow.  Feel yer body become heavy again, roll yer head and feel the joints working.”  Logan watched, transfixed by the boys fluid, almost balletic movements as he stretched out from the meditation.  Remy breathed deep one final time, sighing from the calmness that flowed through his body.  He hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time.  Logan shifted to stand.  “That’s enough for today.”

 

“Oh chere, I was just getting warmed up.”  The boy grinned, as he turned to face his instructor.

 

“Yer supposed to meet with the Professor after ya eat.  And it’s yer turn to cook breakfast.”  

 

Logan rose deftly to his feet and without thinking, put his hand out to help the boy up.  The two locked eyes as Logan realized his mistake, and he quickly brushed his hand down the side of his jeans, turning away with a scowl on his face.

 

Remy climbed slowly to his feet, rolling his shoulders in the process.  “Seem like it always my turn to cook, hehn?”  The sarcastic remark was made without any heat and he noticed the side of Remy’s mouth quirk upwards. 

 

“Yeh, well that’s because ya can.”  Logan snorted.  “Unless, of course, ya want me to burn ya some bacon.”  He chuckled and began to gather up everything, as Remy moved towards the door. 

 

At the threshold, Remy stopped and turned back to the older man.  “Logan?”  The feral paused for a moment and looked up at the ruby orbs piercing him.  Remy ducked his head, to let his hair fall forward and hide his face.  “T’anks, mon ami.”  With that, he turned and slipped out of the room.

 

Logan simply stared at the vacated spot for a moment, then smiled.  “Anytime, kid.”

 

End ch 9


	10. Chapter 10

**CH 10**

Half way down, Remy paused on the landing at the point where the stairs changed direction in the descent to the first floor.  He glanced back to the top and drew brows in confusion.  Was he actually skipping down the stairs?  There was a soft snort and shake of the head at the revelation.  He was a grown man, and grown men just do….not….skip.  With a grin and shrug, he decided he didn’t really care and continued his skipping on the last leg of the journey.  It had been a very long time since Remy felt this relaxed, felt this energized despite the lack of sleep from the previous night.  The meditation session turned out to be so much more than the complete crap he first thought it might be.  And for the first time in too many years, he actually had something to look forward to.  Of course, it made a big difference that the feral was teaching him.  The older man confused, unnerved, and intrigued him all at once.  Despite the small voice in his head telling him that it was too dangerous to let loose certain feelings that had long ago been buried, he couldn’t help constantly thinking of the man and the possibilities; but what an idiot to let his thoughts wander so.  He had only known Logan for a few days, and he had a mission to follow.  At that moment though, as good as he felt, he decided he didn’t really care.

With a genuine smile gracing his features, he wandered towards the kitchen and entered, the smile widening at the sight of the weather goddess. 

“Morning, chere.  You be up pretty early, neh?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, as her hand deftly flipped the pancakes in the air; the landing made perfect through much practice, despite her lack of complete attention to the food.  “Good morning, Remy.  I might say the same for you.”

Remy pulled up along side her and grabbed another pan to start on the bacon.  “Oui.  Logan’s teaching me some meditation techniques.”  Placing a few strips in the pan and turning on the flame, he turned to look her in the eye.  “Never felt more relaxed in my life.”

“That is wonderful!  He’s a very good teacher.”  She noted with an air of experience.  “He has taught quite a few of us those same techniques as well as tactical defense maneuvers.”  The look of confusion on his face made her realize that he was not yet aware of all they did at the school.  “All young mutants who attend this school must learn how to defend themselves, not to go out seeking trouble, but rather to protect themselves should trouble seek them.”  Remy nodded his understanding as they both removed the cooked food from the stove, placing the items in the center of the table.

The table was set for the others to join shortly.  “T’anks for helping me cook.  Logan say it my turn, mais you beat me to it.”

“It was my pleasure.  I had to get up early anyway.  I have plans in the city today and will be leaving soon.”  Storm laid out the juice, as well as other condiments from the refrigerator.

“Need some comp'ny?”  Remy asked hopefully, his own plans for the day not appealing to him in the slightest.

Ororo paused in her preparations and looked up at him, arching one brow as a smirk appeared.  “Remy, as much as I would love to spend time with you, you must meet with the Professor today.”  Seeing the slight slump in the boy’s shoulders, she sighed and walked over to him, placing her hand to cup his chin.  “It will not be as bad as you think, child.  The Professor is a kind and descent man.  Sometimes we may not agree with his methods, but his intentions are always good.  He never intends harm and only wants to help.”

A heated look of disbelief and anger ran briefly through the Cajun’s eyes, before he schooled his features into a mask complete with lop-sided grin.  “Whatever you say, chere.”

About to reply, a frown firmly planted on her face, her words died in her throat as Wolverine entered the kitchen. 

“Morning, ‘Ro” he nodded in greeting to her as he made his way to the table to take a seat, glancing at the Cajun briefly.  “Smells good.”

The fourth member of the mansion currently in residence had yet to show up, which was fine with Remy.  He really didn’t want to talk with Xavier today, or ever.  But despite his dread over the situation and the wariness he felt for spooks, he found that the older man didn’t set off his inner alarms like most telepaths did, even with the fiasco from the previous day.  It was hard to imagine that he had already been here going on three days.  Six if he counted the amount of time he’d waited outside the gates to be noticed.  A momentary flare of irritation struck him as he recalled the fact that they knew he had been there all along.  Deciding not to dwell on the past, he continued eating his breakfast in silence, listening to the conversation between Ro and Logan, looking up as he heard his name.

“I understand you are teaching Remy how to meditate.”  Ororo questioned Logan, before taking a sip of her juice. 

Chewing the mouth full of food he’d shoveled in, Logan put his fork down and swallowed hard, before answering.  “Yep.  And he’s catching on pretty quick.”  The last part said with a wink towards the Cajun.

Remy felt his cheeks heating at the innocent gesture from the older man.  He really needed to get a grip on his emotions, as well as his shields.  Though he could lose control of his ‘charm’, as his tante called it, his shields had never been a problem and had always been strong.  But, he noticed since some of the limits had been removed, that he registered peoples’ emotions more easily and stronger than before.  Either his shields were failing, or his powers were growing again, a thought that sent him into a momentary panic.

The increase in heart-rate and breathing was not lost on the feral.  “Hey bub, you okay over there?”

Remy’s attention returned to the two sharing the table with him, noting with apprehension the concern in their eyes.  “Oui, just t’inking.”  He tried for a disarming smile and emitting a wave of peace. 

The effect seemed to appease the weather goddess, but Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly.  He was more attuned to subtleties from people and felt a foreign emotion that had eluded him for years.  Peaceful feelings weren’t his, which made him immediately suspicious of the boy.  “’bout what?”

Mind racing for a satisfactory answer, he latched onto something Ororo mentioned earlier.  “Stormy tell me you teach self-defense classes.  Maybe you teach me, non?”

Ororo paused mid bite and slanted a sideways glance towards the younger man, her brow arching in query.  “Stormy?  Whatever possessed you to call me that?”

The smirk this time was genuine as Remy replied.  “Seem to fit, chere.”  He chuckled and she joined in. 

After a minute, even Logan cracked a smile at the little nickname, his earlier suspicion momentarily placated and forgotten with the answer the boy had given.  “Sure, kid.  Be happy to.”

They were half-way completed with the meal when the Professor entered the kitchen, bidding them all a good morning.  After filling his plate, he looked at the young mutant across from him.  “I trust you slept better last night?”

A surge of insecurity rose in Remy at the question.  Had he so completely lost control that his dreams and nightmares were being detected by the world’s most powerful telepath?  Xavier must have noted the slight distress as he decided to clarify his question, not wanting the boy to think he had eavesdropped on his thoughts during sleep.  “After what happened yesterday in the Danger Room, and your prolonged headache, I didn’t think you had been sleeping well.” 

Remy would have sighed in audible relief if he wasn’t so sure it would attract strange looks from the other members at the table.  “Oui, t’anks.”

The professor smiled and continued to eat his breakfast.  After a few bites, conversation returned, this time directed at the older mutants at the table.  “The others should be back in a few more days.  I have heard from Henry and he indicated that all has gone as expected.”

“That is good news, professor.  So there were no problems encountered?”  Ororo stared intently at the man, as she waited for his answer.

Shaking his head and smiling, Xavier indicated that everything had been a success.  Remy pondered the cryptic conversation, trying to guess what type of mission was taking place, until Xavier clarified unknowingly.  “Now, if the President will sign it into law, we will be one step closer to equality for all mutants.” 

“I’ll hold my breath” Logan muttered sarcastically under his breath.  Although Remy was sure everyone heard him, no one responded to the bait. 

The Professor wisely chose to change the subject, asking Storm and Logan what their plans were for the day.  Ororo informed them of her impending departure and the fact that she would be gone for most of the day.  For the feral’s part, he had work to do.

Wiping his mouth with a napkin and resting his elbows on the table with hands clasped together over his plate, Logan turned to look at Xavier.  “Gonna head on down to the basement and take a look at the girls.  Those water tanks have been struggling a little lately and I figure I probably should get that fixed before everyone gets back.  Ole Bessie in particular ain’t been putting out the heat she should for the last couple of weeks.  Figure she needs a little TL…..what?”  Logan paused at the snickers coming from the other three at the table, genuinely confused over the joke he obviously missed.

Remy’s eyes glowed in amusement.  “You name de hot water heaters?  Dat’s interesting, mon ami.  What be deir names?”

Still a little puzzled, the older mutant answered the boy, completely serious in his tone.  “Well, there’s Ole Bessie.  She was the first one.  Then there’s Little Sue, she’s not quite as big as her older sister.  The newest edition, though that’s not saying much considering her age, is Oz.” 

“Oz?  Not dat I’m criticizin’ mind you, but dat don’t be a girl’s name, eh?”  The boy was trying hard not to outright laugh.

At this point, Storm decided to enlighten the newest member in the house.  “He named it after one of his favorite characters in a television show.  What is the name of that silly program you like to watch, Logan?  Oh yes…Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”  She continued to chuckle, completely ignoring the scowl that the older mutant was directing her way.  For his part, the Cajun gave in, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair.  The Professor, too, was doing his best to contain himself, deciding to concentrate on finishing his meal.

“Yeh, well, laugh it up.  But they have feelings, ya know.  And they respond to a tender touch.  I don’t hear ya complainin’ much when ya indulge in one of yer lengthy bubble baths, ‘Ro.”  He made to stand, depositing his dirty dishes in the sink, muttering the whole time.  “Damn kids….I’ll be in the basement and in the garage later working on the Harley, if any of ya need me.”  With that he stalked out of the room, his shoulders held in a defensive posture, clearly irritated.

Remy sighed.  “I guess we shouldn’t have made fun of him.”  But Ororo waved him off, letting the boy know that their volatile companion enjoyed the teasing despite his gruff, outward appearance.  She indicated that it always made Logan feel a part of the team, human to be teased like any other.

The Professor finished his meal, placing his fork down and glancing up at the remaining company.  “That was delicious, thank you.”  With a pointed look at the Cajun, he continued.  “I look forward to our session this morning, Remy.  I will expect you shortly.”  With that he excused himself.

The boy had a pensive look as he nodded his assent, then sighed.  “Guess I better get dese dishes cleaned up, hehn?”  As he stood, Ororo reached out and placed her hand over his, causing him to pause as he rose from the chair.  He glanced at her and gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “S’bien, chere.  T’anks.” 

End ch 10


	11. Chapter 11

**CH 11**

Remy walked sluggishly toward the door leading to the Professor's office.  He was in no hurry to meet with the telepath and start his 'healing' process, whatever that meant.  But, no sooner had he paused to raise his knuckles to the door - attempting to gather his courage and shields for the upcoming session - than the Professor called out to him from the other side, to bid him entry.  It was not like Remy was surprised by that fact, after all the man was one of the world's most powerful telepaths.  He knew his shields were formidable against most of ‘his’ kind, but against Charles Xavier he knew there could be a struggle.

“Ah Remy, please sit.  Give me a few moments to finish this document.”  The Professor was professionalism personified, smiling warmly at the youth. 

As he waited, Remy had the opportunity to really inspect the office, something he had not had the chance to do in his first visit.  The oak desk at which the professor sat was rich in detail.  It had intricate veneered inlays running along the edges, with a swirling fleur de lys design in the center panel at the front, finished off with clawed feet on each leg.  On the wall behind the Professor was an original painting that the thief immediately recognized as authentic and priceless.  The painter, well known, used rich characters and vibrant colors to create a scene of everyday life in olden days.  Remy mused at the amount of money such a piece of art would command, and how much food and medicine that might buy the Morlocks for many generations.  He cut that train of thought, not wanting the older man to pick up on it.  There would be time later on to pinch what he needed from this place.  Of that he would make sure.

Continuing to wander, his eyes skimmed over the nearby bookcase that extended from floor to ceiling.  So full was the unit, not a single spot remained available on any shelf.  The perusal of titles revealed quite an impressive collection of master works, along with theory behind various topics and a multitude of genres.  The man was well read.  Remy supposed he should be intimidated by that fact, but truthfully, he could not care less.  It’s not like he was a stupid man himself, he just had not had the opportunities that the Professor obviously had growing up.  Besides, his interests ran more in the lines of espionage and mechanics, though he would keep this collection in mind should he continue to encounter insomnia; nothing would put him to sleep faster.

Survey of the room completed, he turned his attention to the older man across from him, trying to recall what he read in the limited file his current boss had provided.  It was hard to tell in his wheelchair, but the way he composed himself made Remy speculate the man was almost as tall as he, with a heavier physique, and looking far younger than he truly was in years.  The man was a genius, a geneticist and obvious head of this so-called school, as well as the leader of an ‘insane group of terrorists intent on taking over the world’; if his current employer’s notes were believable.  But, Remy wasn’t so sure.  Behind those indigo eyes that leaned more towards the blue end of the spectrum, there was a mark of compassion, not insanity.  Perhaps the thief should re-evaluate his initial opinion of the man. 

“So tell me, Remy, how do you feel about world domination?”

Then again, maybe Magneto’s files **were** correct.  “Uh…hehn?”

The Professor smirked as he looked up from his paperwork.  “Just trying to get your attention.”  He brought his hands up into a steeple below his chin to focus completely on the boy.

It took a moment to register, but an answering smirk slowly appeared on the Cajun’s face.  “T’ink dat may be a little ambitious for me, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”  He shrugged in nonchalance as the professor chuckled. 

The older man then grew serious.  “How are you adjusting?”

“Fine”

Xavier paused a moment, to see if anything further would be said.  Seeing that the boy was not going to contribute any more, he continued.  “Is your room satisfactory?”

“Oui.”

Undaunted, he tried to engage the boy again.  “The other residents will be arriving in another couple of days.  You will be able to meet them then.”

“Hn”

Xavier arched a brow.  They sat there in a silent ’battle of gazes’ until Remy finally caved, lowering his eyes to the desk as the air around them became uncomfortable.  Xavier watched the boy begin to fidget under the scrutiny, inwardly amused at the intimidation a crippled older man could cause a healthy vibrant youth.  Taking pity on Remy’s awkwardness, Xavier brought his hands back down to grasp a pen in order to take notes. 

One thing the Professor never did was follow a recipe on counselling.  Each mutant that entered his office was unique; requiring their own set of parameters and pathways in order to be successful.  There was no one tried and true method for dealing with people with special talents.  Rather, he attempted to study each pupil and adjust his questions accordingly.  But, he was having a difficult time with this particular individual.  Some signs were there, but overall the boy’s body language was hard to interpret and all he could definitely read at the moment was that Remy was nervous.

“There is nothing to fear, Remy.  We are not here to judge you or force you into telling us anything.  It is important to us that we earn your trust.”

Remy quit fidgeting, for the most part, and tilted his head slightly as he challenged that statement.  “What make you t’ink Remy don’t trust you?  Came here on my own, eh?  Dat should mean somet’ing.”

Xavier took in the stubborn set of the jaw.  “In answer to your first question – No, I don’t think you trust us.  As for the latter, yes you did come here.  However, I feel that you came to us as a last resort.  Perhaps you tried to learn control on your own, before seeking us out?  But, you are correct.  It does mean something that you finally came to us.  May I assume that something has happened in your past to cause you to seek other help?”    

/ _Logan didn’t tell him?/_   It looked like the feral had kept the conversation from the previous night private after all, and that caused a tingling sensation somewhere in his chest.  But that also meant something else.  His jaw sagged as he simply stared, mind reeling from the insight that was a little too close to home, and he checked his shields, though he felt no breach.  The Professor must have recognized something in the boy’s expression as he quickly raised his hands in mock surrender.  “I have not read your mind.  I told you before that I will never enter someone’s mind without their permission, unless there is a dire need.”

Xavier watched as the boy turned away from him to stare at the door to his office, as if seeking the shortest route to escape.  With a sigh, he lowered his hands, deciding to change the topic for the time being.  “Ok. Let’s talk about the mechanics of your power for a moment.  Tell me how they work.”

Remy’s brows drew together in confusion.  “Already told you once before.  Can blow t’ings up.”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant.  Can you feel the power building up within?  Can you feel it release into an object or is it that you feel the object itself becoming excited?”  Xavier paused for a moment, considering.  “Do you feel you have some control over it initially, and if so, can you tell when it is beginning to slip from your control?”

Remy simply stared at the man as he thought about the questions.  How exactly did his powers work?  It wasn’t something he was ever conscious about, rather it was always a part of him; natural.  He was slow in formulating an answer to give the man.  “Seems like I can feel de molecules in an object getting excited.  Don’t t’ink de charge come from me, more like de charge be in de object and I just bring it out wit’ a touch.  Mas..” Remy paused, looking inward in thought before focusing once again on Xavier.  “dere be a tingling sensation.”  Almost immediately, his memory of the night in the kitchen and the card game came to mind.  The spark that seemed to ignite when he touched the feral was something he had never experienced before when touching another living soul.  He felt himself growing warm at the memory, his skin pimpling with the ghosted feeling that had been there that night.

“I see.”  The professor scribbled some notes on his pad, canting a look towards the boy as he finished.  “And when you lose control?  Can you pinpoint why?”

Fingers raked through auburn hair, a nervous gesture clear to the older man.  Remy found a sudden interest in the carpet at his feet, a card appearing from no where to flip back and forth between the fingers of one hand.  Xavier took in all these signs and scribbled more notes covertly in his pad.  “When….” Remy shifted a little in his chair. “when emotions be strong, seem like dat’s when control slip.  But not always.  Seem like mostly extreme anger or when Remy scared or in pain.”  He shrugged as if he couldn’t figure out anything else to add.

Xavier frowned at the use of third person speech.  It was something he would need to explore at a later time with the boy.  He already suspected extreme emotions were the cause, knowing that powerful emotions usually triggered a mutant’s powers to respond in kind.  “Yes, I recall the Danger Room session when your exhaustion and pain contributed to the overload.  If I had not shut you down, the damage would have been extensive.”  A guilty look appeared on the professor’s face.  “Again, I am sorry for that.  Tell me, have you ever lost control to the point of massive destruction?”

The pain that entered the boy’s eyes was unmistakable.  “Only once.”  He would not contribute anything further to that answer, but it was enough for Xavier to understand.  But still, he needed to push the boy to open up if possible.

“And did people die when this happened?”

Remy’s gaze drifted towards the window, watching the clouds gently float by without a care in the world.  For a moment, he thought he could make out shapes in the sky of family members faces, as he remembered them on that day; his mind transporting him into the past.  His eyes began to water unexpectedly and he blinked a few times to clear them.  It still hurt, even after all these years, maybe even more because of the suffering that followed.  All the punishments he endured, however, could never make up for what he did, even if it was an accident.

It was obvious to Xavier that he wasn’t going to get a verbal response to his question.  But truthfully, he had seen enough in the boy’s reaction to speculate that the answer was yes.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Non” Remy whispered. 

“Remy..”

The thief turned his glittering eyes towards the older man, unshed tears evident as he pleaded. “Please Professeur, Remy don’ wanna talk ‘bout dis.”

Again the third person speech pattern appeared, along with a heavier accent.  Distress was evident and the older man decided not to pursue it further, inclining his head in acknowledgement of the plea.

Without realizing it, Remy lifted his palm to rub away the moisture from his eye, a sniffle coming involuntarily.  “Can Remy go now?  Got chores to do.”

Xavier was ready to argue with the boy, the session having only just begun.  But seeing the desperation in Remy’s face, he decided it was enough for one day.  There would be plenty of time to delve deeper in future meetings.  “Very well.”

Remy rose to leave, but paused at the door when the professor called out for him.  Without turning back to look at the older man, he simply waited.  “Remy, I don’t want to push you or cause you pain.  It is not our goal here at the school.  But, there are some things that must be faced, in order for you to learn control.  We want to help with that, but you have to meet us half way.  Trust is a two way street.  We are willing to give it to you, but you need to be willing to return it.”

Remy closed his eyes for a moment, as those words sank in.  “D’accord.” He said before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him.  He leaned his head back against the door and stared up at the ceiling.  Why had he not met these people years ago, before his life took a darker path?  He still had a job to do, but suddenly he wasn’t sure if he could.  Everything here was a contradiction to what he had been told, and now the conflict building within him threatened to be his undoing.

With a sigh, he pushed away from the door and decided to start on his chores.  Since his primary duties for the day included changing all the linen in the resident’s rooms and washing the laundry, he decided to collect his own clothes first.  He didn’t have much and everything he had, save for what he was wearing, was dirty.

><><><><><> 

After collecting his possessions and the sheets from his room, he headed for the facilities on the first floor.  The laundry room possessed only one washer/dryer unit, a fact that probably caused more than one argument among the residents.  In his mind, he could just see a line forming to use it.  Briefly he wondered how often they had to replace the overtaxed machines.  After throwing in his clothes and pouring in the detergent, he turned the machine on and watched nothing happen.  Blinking in confusion, it took him a moment to realize why no water poured into the basket.  He turned and made his way down to the lower floor, searching for the feral.

The swearing and cursing echoed off the walls and he grinned as he followed the sounds to the intended target.  Logan sat on the ground, wrench in hand, as he stared at several fittings on the tank.  “Need some help, mon ami?”

Logan merely sighed.  “It’s the damn pipes.”  But he didn’t elaborate.  Looking up at the younger mutant, he couldn’t help but grin.  “Sure, Cajun.  Grab a tool.”

They spent most of the afternoon working on the pipes and fittings which ran to and from the tanks.  Neither spoke much, there was no need; they both seemed instinctively aware of each other’s role in the repair process and they carried out their tasks seamlessly.  When the last of the work was completed, they stood back together and admired their handiwork.  The units were purring like kittens, the temperature optimum.  Logan, extremely satisfied with their handiwork and without thinking, clasped Remy on the shoulder and gently squeezed.  “Thanks!  Ya saved me quite a bit of time by helping.”

Remy tensed momentarily at the unexpected touch, but relaxed as the warmth of the other’s hand radiated through his body.  “My pleasure.  Mas, now I’m behind on my own chores and ..” he glanced down at his grease covered shirt and pants “…I’m filt’y with not'ing to wear.”

Logan stepped around the front of the boy and glanced at his shirt, before looking up into ruby eyes.  “Well, I think I got something you can wear, til yer own stuff’s clean.  An’ one good turn deserves another, don’t ya think?  I’ll help ya with the rest of yer chores.  Come on.”  Without another word, he put all the tools back into the storage bin from where they had originally been retrieved, then headed upstairs, expecting Remy to follow.  When they made it to Logan’s room, he rummaged through the drawers of his chest, pulling out a button up, long sleeve flannel shirt and a pair of old worn jeans.  “Go take a shower, kid. I’ll be here when ya finished.”

After his shower, Remy headed back to Logan’s room to find the older man changed and refreshed from having completed his own shower.  As the boy knocked and entered, Logan turned around, he took one look at the boy and chuckled.  “Well, guess I won’t have to worry ‘bout ya borrowing my stuff in the future.”  The shirt was too large for the slender youth.  Despite being buttoned all the way to the top, it was sliding temptingly down his shoulder to expose creamy skin; a sight that Logan appreciated.  The pants were baggy on the boy and rode high on his legs, exposing the dusting of auburn hair on his lower calves, outlining the obvious difference in height between the two males. 

Remy smirked.  “Yeh, I make quite de fashion statement in dis, mon ami.”  They both laughed as he struck a silly pose, before heading out to spend the rest of the dwindling day on Remy’s chores.  The afternoon seemed to pass quickly in the feral’s company and, by the time the last bed was stripped, Remy had all but forgotten the morning’s events and the uncomfortable meeting with the head of the school.

End ch 11


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Paiute legend of the North Star that Logan tells in this chap came from an Indian folklore website. My apologies if the information I obtained from there is incorrect and thus offends anyone. 
> 
> Sometimes I forget to translate Cajun terms used. Cooyon means stupid, idiot, fool. It may be spelled several different ways. For example, the Cajun French-English dictionary at the LSU archives spells it couillon, whereas the Cajun dialect website spells it couyon and Boodrow's website spells it cooyon. So, many different spellings...my best guess is that variations in spellings/meanings occur in different areas/parishes of Louisiana. LIke I say in the disclaimers/warnings - don't know Cajun French. Anyways...hope you enjoy this chap.

**CH 12**

Dinner came and went with little fanfare; a rather simple affair, consisting of bologna and cheese on toasted bread with chips and soda.  But after some of the dubious meals that Remy had been forced to eat growing up, he considered it among the finest of cuisines.  Ororo had returned from the city earlier in the evening, announcing that she had already had dinner with some female friends, so only the Professor and Logan were in attendance around the table.  Xavier did a respectable job of offering idle chit-chat in order to relieve some of the uncomfortable tension that hovered in the air across the dinning table.  He assumed Remy was still irked by their earlier meeting and so tried to encourage him by discussing some of the mundane day-to-day events at the school.  Remy tried to relax and enjoy the camaraderie, concentrating on the feeling of pleasantness that still lingered from his afternoon spent in the feral’s company.  The evening meal being concluded, the Professor had excused himself, leaving Logan and Remy to their own devices. 

The heavy air lifted slightly at Xavier’s departure, but still Remy could feel an edge of awkwardness between him and the big man. Their conversation stumbled to a halt, followed by several moments of weighty silence.  It was Logan who finally broke the stillness, turning and looking expectantly at the kid.  “Hey, Cajun.  I’m going for a walk around the property.  Ya wanna come?”

Remy thought about it for a moment.  His initial plans for the evening had been to sneak off to the city with some more food for his adopted clan.  But, to deny the request might bring suspicion on him.  He still felt too new for them to completely trust him and the last thing he needed this day were more questions.  Besides, he found, a little unnervingly, that he **wanted** to spend more time with the man.   That sudden realization made him falter and reconsider.  What the hell was wrong with his emotions?  He usually had better control, but the feral was making him feel…..things….

/ _Dieu_ _, dis no good/_

“Well?”  Logan cut into his thoughts and was staring at him suspiciously.  

“’kay.”  Remy frowned at his own response, but had no time to contemplate it further as he watched the older man turn and head towards the door, expecting the Cajun to follow him.  He paused at the door and made a slight detour, grabbing up a bottle of whiskey from a locked cabinet before continuing.  Remy merely raised an auburn brow and quietly followed.

The air was crisp and cool, refreshing in its purity so far removed from the acridness of the city.  They walked side-by-side in comfortable silence for a while, skirting the edges of the manicured lawn, and criss-crossing up and down a few paths that disappeared into the woods.  Even though the big feral’s strides were quick and purposeful, Remy had no problem keeping up with him.   Eventually, passing through a broad copse they came upon a wide, man-made lake, oblong in design with a Victorian folly at one end from which one could sit and take in the view; Remy was awed at the sight.  He prided himself on being thorough when he researched a target, but he had completely missed this rather large body of water.  It made him wonder what else was hidden on the estate that may have escaped his attention. 

Following the footpath around the lake, they came to a clearing.  Logan left the path and moved towards a downed tree, making himself comfortable on the crumbling trunk before setting the bottle into an old knot to stop it from falling over.  Remy approached him tentatively and sat beside him.  Logan was already staring at the sky and Remy turned his attention to where the feral gazed.  He gasped when he saw the picture before him.  “Mon dieu!  It’s huge!”  The full moon stood before them in all its magnificent glory, a massive ball of gentle light that seemed so close as to be within reach.  Stars twinkled on all sides, above and behind them.  Some were barely visible, blurred as if an ink spot was not completely erased; others were brilliant, seemingly pulsing with a life-like heartbeat. 

Logan grinned and reached for the bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a deep swig of the drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.  “Yep.  This is one o’ my favorite spots on the property.  Can’t really appreciate all this in the city.  Can’t really see it.  Here...”  Logan offered the bottle to Remy, and watched him steadily, as the Cajun stared in trepidation.  “Well, it ain’t gonna bite ya.  Not much anyway.”  He added with a smirk.

But Remy was unsure.  He usually had a high tolerance for alcohol.  But there were certain liquids that hit him quickly and hard – whiskey and wine being the worst.  It was not something he really understood, but figured it had something to do with content.  Logan merely snorted and pulled the bottle back towards himself.  “Guess I was wrong about ya being a kid.  Thought you were over eighteen.” 

“I am.” Remy fumed.  “I t’ink” he muttered.  As if to prove a point, he snatched the bottle from the older man’s hands and tossed his head back, downing more than one gulp of the fiery liquid.

“Whoa Whoa!  Slow down” Logan reached up and took the bottle back from him, as the boy started coughing and sputtering, gasping for air around the raw burn in the back of his throat.  Patting him on the back, the older man eyed him with concern.  “Ya ok there, Cajun?”

His hand involuntarily went to his chest as he struggled to regain some composure.  “Oui…. {cough, hack}…jus’…jus’ went down de wrong pipe…{cough}..” 

Logan smirked and knocked back another round himself.  Remy noticed and his face flushed in embarrassment and anger.  “Been awhile since Remy had somet’ing dat strong, s’all.” He grumbled, ignoring the chuckle coming from the older man. 

Staring in one direction, Logan’s gaze became distant.  “Ya know, there’s an old Indian legend about the North Star.  It’s the only star that can’t move, doesn’t travel.” 

Remy turned to look at the wistful expression on the older man’s face.  The man was absolutely beautiful, in his opinion; incredibly masculine, wild but exotic with those piercing cobalt blue eyes and lips so enticing.  Where had that thought come from?  Head becoming slightly dizzy with the after effects of his little stunt, he blinked as if to clear his thoughts.  “Eh?  How dat legend go?”

“When the North Star was on Earth a long time ago, he was a proud, brave mountain sheep called Na-gah, who would climb anything and everything.  One day, he found a very high peak with smooth, steep sides that reached up into the clouds.  He decided to climb it to make his father proud.  But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a foothold.”  Logan took another swig of the bottle, passing it to Remy after, who also took another sip though slower and with more caution.  “He spent many hours looking for a crevice to get a footing, but couldn’t find any.  Finally, he found a crack in a rock that led to a hole leading up.”  Logan took the bottle again and made a motion with his other hand as he talked.  “So, he started climbing up this hole inside the rock, his path getting darker and darker the higher he climbed.  Loose rock fell all around him, under his feet and hands as he moved upward, slipping a lot.  As it got darker and he started hearing noises from below him, he got scared and decided to climb back down and try again to find another way along the outside cliff.  But when he turned to go back, his way was blocked by all the rocks that had fallen during the climb.  So he had to keep going.”

Remy turned again to stare at the profile of the older man. The air had turned even cooler and he could see it vaporize before him with each breath.  He found himself starting to lean towards the feral, mesmerized by the movement of his mouth as he spoke, shivering minutely at some underlying electric current drawing him to the older man.  “After a while, Na-gah came out of the hole onto a small space that gave no room for movement.  All around and below him were great cliffs.  He was so high up that he could look down on the rest of the world.  He was stuck, though, and realized that he would die on that mountain with no way back down from the outside and the hole closed up on the inside.  But, he was proud of climbing it.  After awhile, his father searched for him.  When he found Na-gah and saw that he could never come down, he was sad.  So, he decided not to let his brave son die.  Instead, he turned him into a star so he could stand there and shine for all to see.  So, Na-gah became a star, the only star that’s always found in the same place, standing still and guiding travelers who look up to him.”

Remy turned to look up at the sky, trying to find the star, brows drawn in concentration as he searched.  “How you know where to find it?”

Logan looked sideways at the boy, then leaned closer to him to point to a specific spot in the sky.  “Well, sometimes ya can find it by looking for the Big and Little Dipper.  The legend says that they were also mountain sheep that found the mountain and tried to reach Na-gah.  That the father of the North Star turned them into stars, too, and ya can see them at the foot of the great mountain, always going around it to find a trail leading up.”

Remy followed Logan's arm to look at the star in question, amazed at the knowledge of the older mutant sitting so close.  "How you know so much 'bout..." Remy turned his head to ask the question and came nose to nose with the feral.  His breath caught in his throat before he could finish his statement. "...stars" he whispered.  And then it was the most natural move in the world to lean forward that last breath of space between them and kiss the man on the lips.  Remy felt the tingle of sparks dance across his mouth as they made contact.  Logan’s lips were soft, pliant and moist, boosting the static charge between them.  Remy felt the rough texture of a tongue slide along his bottom lip, questing, asking for entrance and he granted it.  His mouth opened to the feral and immediately the kiss grew deeper.  He could taste the whiskey on the other man, as well as a flavor that was uniquely Logan.  Tongues dueled for dominance and Remy let loose a sighing whimper that was captured in Logan’s mouth.  The older man growled low in his throat and released the bottle from his grip, letting it fall with a clink onto the thick grass at the base of the tree,  Without thinking, he brought his hand up to cradle the Cajun’s jaw, holding it in place while he plundered within.  Logan’s other hand grabbed Remy about the waist and pulled him forward completely, the boy’s body molding into his.

Remy’s head spun out of control, his thoughts chaotic at the sensuous overload.  Warmth suffused his body, and the heat of the man against him was a heady mixture fogging his brain. He felt himself slipping, his charm oozing out at higher and higher levels as the kiss continued.  All of his inner alarms were screaming at him and he knew he was treading into dangerous territory.  It was a struggle to bring his mind under control and he squeezed both hands between their bodies to push the older man back.  The kiss broke with a gasp from the boy and he stared wide-eyed at the older man.  Both were panting heavily.  Logan felt a slight tremor in the younger mutant’s body and there was the faint smell of fear as well.  Logan struggled to bring his scattered senses together into some semblance of order.  The last thing he wanted to do was scare the kid, but he was having difficulty.  Something was tingling at the edges of his awareness and it was all he could do not to throw the Cajun down and fuck him senseless.  Logan released his hold on the boy as if burned, scooting backwards on the log to put some distance between them.  Breaths coming in rapid, shallow bursts, Remy stood up too quickly and the world shifted awkwardly in his slightly inebriated state.  

Pure instinct had Logan moving quickly, grabbing the Cajun’s elbow to keep him from falling.  “Hey!  Hey, ya alright, kid?”

“Not a kid” Remy sputtered petulantly as he pushed away from the feral.  “Wh…What was dat?”  One of his hands came up to rub at his temple as he backed away from Logan.  “T’ink I better...” He made a waving motion towards the mansion with his hand, then turned on his heal and somewhat staggered back the way they had come.        

Logan watched him until he disappeared.  He didn’t worry about the boy making it back on his own.  He would follow shortly and discreetly.  For now, he just needed to collect himself.  Running a hand roughly through his hair, he sat back down on the log, picked up the whiskey and glared hard at nothing.  “Well shit.”  

<><><><><><><><><> 

He made it back to the mansion after what seemed like an eternity, feeling like he was being watched the entire time.  Then he chastised himself for being paranoid.  He figured it must be trust issues making him feel that way, since trust was definitely an issue. 

“cooyon, Cooyon, COOYON” he cursed himself.  “How could I be so stupid?”  Mind reeling with the after effects of the potent brew, he couldn’t understand the way he was feeling.  Making his way up to his room, he flung himself backwards onto his bed, both hands coming up to hide his face as he replayed the scene in his mind.  Bad enough he let down his guard and let himself be goaded into drinking something he knew affected his judgment, but he also indulged in the feelings he had been trying to lock away since meeting Logan.  Remy was no stranger to sex, had used his body on more than one occasion to get what was needed at the time.  But, after awhile none of those couplings meant anything to him, having learned at a young age to forego any beliefs of love and simply allow it to become a tool to benefit him in certain situations, a means to an end.  He had never felt such an instant connection to another before, and he had to admit that he was more than a little terrified of the overwhelming desire he had for the man.

Slipping out of his clothes and under the covers, it wasn’t long before he fell into slumber, lured by the drain of emotional stress and the imbuement of strong drink.  His mind drifted through a fog for a while, eventually clearing to a surreal vision.  He was in a field of tall grass and wildflowers, walking along slowly with his hands out to the side, gingerly gliding over the tops of the blades of grass.  The feel of the feathery blades on his palm and the overwhelming smell of flora made his head spin.  Though it was nightfall, the distinct shapes of mountain peaks could be made out in the distance, one point in particular a bright spot, almost like a star.  The moon was at full strength, shining like a beacon all around, illuminating his path with a ghostly glow as he moved.  The shadows danced just outside the moonlight’s line of demarcation, but for some reason they held no unseen terrors for him.  Instead he felt at peace for one of the few times in his young life.  A movement caught his eye and he turned towards it.  A figure slowly approached him, the moon not providing enough light to reveal its features, but Remy knew instantly it was a male.  He seemed to glide through the waving grass towards him, closer until he was almost touching. Then, hands were on him, moving all over his body, seductively exploring.  Normally, such liberties by strangers would be terrifying, resulting in some form of pain for him.  But, he was oddly unafraid of these roving hands; in fact, welcomed them.  A moan of ecstasy escaped him as the stranger’s hands cupped his manhood through the thin fabric of the pants he wore.  Lips found purchase on his throat, suckling and licking, marking him as property of this stranger.

A sound to his left, soft and steady caused him momentary confusion before the stranger drew his attention once again, slowly lowering them to the ground.  He lay on his back as the man lay over him, the weight of a heavier body bringing a rise of pleasure to his as the other man slid above him.  He closed his eyes as the stranger stroked over his chest and teased his nipples.  The sound to his left came again, more persistent, and he struggled to open his eyes, irritated at the noise.  Reluctantly pushing against the figure, he looked up to ask what the noise was.  The stranger hovered above him, supported by muscular arms as the moonlight shifted across his face revealing the all too familiar features of Logan….

Remy sat up with a gasp, instantly awake from his erotic dream, momentarily confused by his surroundings and painfully aware of the erection tenting the sheets.  Daylight streamed in through the slightly open curtains and Remy squinted against the brightness.  The sound of knocking on his door shook him from his reverie and he called out to his visitor. 

“It’s Logan.  Can I come in fer a minute?” the older mutant called from the other side of the door.

Remy swallowed hard, looking down at the evidence of his lust and trying to find a way to hide it.  He grabbed one of his pillows and put it across his lap as he leaned against the headboard.  It was obvious to him the picture he was creating, so he quickly grabbed a comic book he had been reading from his side table and placed it on top of the pillow, flipping through the pages as he told the other man to enter.

“What up, homme?”  Remy feigned nonchalance as he continued to peruse his book, belatedly noting that it was upside down.

If Logan noticed this, he didn’t say.  Sitting on the edge of Remy’s bed at a respectable distance from the Cajun, Logan awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  “Listen, Remy…about last night.  We….that is to say…I…..uh..” He stammered, at a complete loss on what to say to the boy.

“Don’t ‘member much ‘bout last night, mon ami.  Hope I didn’t do somet’ing stupid.”  Remy didn’t look up from his book, not wanting to meet the man’s eyes.

Logan saw an out when it was handed to him and he grabbed onto it for all he was worth.  “Nah, ya didn’t do anything I minded.”  Logan’s nostrils flared and he seemed to take a deep breath, turning a knowing gaze onto the boy. 

Remy could feel the weight of his stare bore into him, heat beginning to burn in his cheeks as he realized the feral was smelling him…smelling his arousal.  _/ Merde/_  “Somet’ing else I can do for you?”  He was struggling with himself, part of him wanting to pull the man down and assuage his need, the other part nearly desperate for the man to leave. 

The older mutant lifted one corner of his mouth in a partial smile, a gleam in his eye as he took a moment to enjoy the boy squirm under his scrutiny.  “Ya downed that whiskey pretty quick last night.  Just wanted to make sure yer alright.”  At Remy’s nod, Logan stood, then suddenly leaned over the boy, his arms going to the headboard on either side of the Cajun’s head to pin him.  Remy sucked in a breath, eyes widening in surprise.  Logan moved in close, his breath ghosting across Remy’s lips and sending a shiver through the boy’s body as he spoke in a husky voice.  “That’s good.  Wouldn’t want ya to be sick or anything.”  He stayed that way for another minute, drinking in the scent of the younger mutant, before pushing away.  Turning to make his way back to the door, he called over his shoulder without looking back at Remy.  “Yer sessions’ in ten.  My room.  Don’t forget to bring somethin’ ta focus on.”  And then he was gone.

Remy let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, before putting his head in one hand and rubbing his eyes.  “Dieu!  How I’m gon’ concentrate on meditatin’ around him?  I got to finish dis assignment before….”  Before what, he wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t decide if it would be a good thing or not.

End ch 12


	13. Chapter 13

** CH 13 **

The meditation session was an unmitigated disaster as far as Logan was concerned.  Not only had the boy not concentrated on his focal point, he also fidgeted the entire session; the tiny movements proving to be a major distraction for the both of them.  Logan scowled at nothing in particular, frustrated with himself.  The teacher was no better than the student, he mused.  He had been unable to relax and enter any kind of trance-like state with all of his senses hyperaware of the Cajun spice sitting behind him.  He could still smell the musky scent of arousal on the younger mutant; setting his blood on fire with the heady intoxication.  He could hear the ragged breathing of the boy, the sounds sending aching sensations straight to his groin.  He remembered the taste of the kid on his lips, in his mouth, on his tongue.  It took all of Logan’s willpower not to turn around and grab Remy in a bone crushing embrace and plaster that beautiful face with possessive kisses.  When he finally declared an end to what he decided was some form of torture session, Remy had fled the room in a near run, disappearing from the feral’s presence like his life depended on it.  To make matters worse, he had not shown up for breakfast with the others, leaving Logan to shrug off any questions from the Professor and Storm regarding the newest member of the school.

He decided to give the boy some space.  At first, he thought last night’s kiss had been a mistake, the surroundings and the alcohol allowing inhibitions to be lowered just enough to permit something that would not normally have occurred.  But, after walking into the Cajun’s bedroom this morning and observing first-hand that the attraction was mutual, he wanted to know if there could be more between them; perhaps even the long-term relationship that had always seemed to elude him. 

“Fuck!”

Logan threw the wrench away from him, listening to the metallic clank as it hit the concrete and skittered away.  “What the hell am I thinking?” he whispered to himself as he ran his oily fingers through his tousled tufts.  He was at a complete loss as to why he was suddenly considering a relationship with someone he had only just met, and a man at that!  Not that Logan had any real qualms when it came to gender - after all he could appreciate beauty in all its forms - it was more the mystery and the surprise of such an immediate and powerful attraction.  Logan was not one to normally succumb to his hormones like a love-struck teenager.  He had better control over himself than that.

There were no hopes held out for seeing the boy at lunch.  The noon day meal was usually a free for all, where everyone came and went as they pleased in the drive to satisfy their stomachs.  So he spent most of the day taking care of little repair jobs about the mansion, constantly on the look-out for the Cajun and hoping that the kid would show up for dinner.

For his part, Remy found it relatively easy to avoid the older mutant.  The mansion complex with its several floors - that he knew about - provided ample space for a skilled thief to lose himself.  Part of his mind railed at him for his cowardice, having latched onto the dream that the other man could be someone special and meaningful in his life.  But a larger part, the ruthless and rational side that had kept him alive all these years, told him such a person didn’t exist and that following any path other than the survival skills, that were now second nature to him, would lead to much familiar pain.  No, it was best not to become involved with anyone willingly.  His tactile nature had long since been cowed into submission, easily ignored after all his experiences in favor of isolation; in the name of self-preservation. 

Meeting with the Professor was another issue.  The telepath had picked up on the tension rolling off the Cajun, but Remy refused to talk about what was bothering him.  Instead, they focused again on determining how and when the loss of his powers take place, as well as attempting again to discuss more delicate topics.  Remy knew at some point in time, for the sake of the mission, he would need to tell the Professor about his family, or loss thereof, as well as his childhood experiences.  It was obvious to the thief that the older man had seen more in his mind that first time than he wanted to admit, whether intentional or not.  And as much as he wanted to deny it, the possibility that the Professor might actually be able to carry out his declaration and help him heal from the wounds of the past was as tempting as a siren’s song.  Remy could feel his walls beginning to crumble, wanting desperately to trust these people.  His abilities were telling him that they spoke the truth, or at least their belief in what they were preaching felt genuine.  Of course, this brought about its own issues.  He had a job to do, one that would be incredibly difficult for him to complete if what he had been told about these X-men was a lie.  To steal information from terrorists and criminals was one thing.  To do so from legitimate researchers attempting to help mutant kind was another. 

Remy set about snooping, looking for a fairly private access point that would allow him entry to the computer system.  At first, he had considered the office several doors down from the Professor.  It belonged to the individual the others had identified as Scott Summers, the team leader.  But he ruled that out quickly because of the close proximity of the telepath and because it was in a main corridor; it would effectively sabotage his attempts at avoiding the feral.  Instead, he made his way down to the lower level where that shifting room was located that they tested him, in when he first arrived.  The lower level was tunnel-like, since it was constructed underground, and pin wheeled out in three directions from the elevator.  All three pathways were dark.  At first, he caught himself searching the walls around the elevator doors for a light switch, until he remembered that the hallways illuminated a section at a time as you walked down them.

The shifting room they called the Danger room, he recalled, was to the left.  Unfortunately, they had not given him individual access to the room yet, preferring to wait until he was fully trained in its use.  He imagined it had something to do with the specialized equipment and the Professor’s extreme protectiveness over it.  What had the man said before?  That there was nothing else like it on Earth?  Shrugging it off, Remy turned his crimson orbs to the other two hallways leading away from the elevator.  One went straight ahead of him as he stepped out of the doors, and the other led to the right.  Biting his lower lip, he decided to take the right hallway and meandered down the path.      

It was a short distance, with the lights fading on as he stepped forward, then off as he left a section, lending an almost eerie quality to the hallway.  Obviously, some sort of heat or motion detectors were in place to automatically flip the switches, an inventive way to conserve electricity, but it still made Remy feel like he was being watched.  The first two doors he saw were facing each other on opposite walls.  A quick perusal showed the rooms contained within to be locker and shower rooms, one for each gender.  Continuing down the hall, it ended with two large frosted glass doors that swished open when he was within a foot of the entry.  Remy paused a moment, searching for any type of silent alarm that would notify someone of his unauthorized entrance, then stepped over the threshold into what he suddenly realized was the medical ward.  The room was large, but not overwhelming, smelling of sterility and antiseptic.  For a moment, the past blurred with the present, and Remy almost started to hyperventilate.  It took him several deep breaths to bring his errant thoughts under control.  Foolish to live in memories, he thought. 

There were several glass divisions about the room, separating it into partitions.  Some partitions contained hospital type beds, while one other partition looked like some form of operating room.  He shuddered at that, eyes moving away quickly to the next partition.  A research area was set-up here, all types of equipment to make any biologist drool in delight.  There were also several cabinets, some of which were locked.  Moving to this area, a quick scan of the unlocked storage bins yielded medicines of various types.  That might prove useful for the clan. 

As much as he wanted to explore the room and see what items could conveniently disappear under his experienced hand, time was of the essence.  The computer in the corner was powered up and he began the arduous process of hacking into the system.  Remy prided himself on being a master thief, but the world of electronics was a universe all on its own.  He could make his way reasonably well around most systems, leaving scant traces of his invasion, but there were some security programs that posed an insurmountable challenge for him.  This one appeared to be such a system.  He had never seen anything like it.  Every new pathway he chose, the dreaded ‘access denied’ screen would stop him cold.  Worse yet, he was fairly sure that he was leaving fingerprints of himself within the system, not something a novice would notice, but a well-versed security programmer would find it with relative ease and perhaps laugh at the poor attempt to hide the trail.  Not for the first time did Remy wish he was a better hacker, maybe like that little ghost girl that his master had a file on, Kitty something-or-other.  He sighed and brought his hand up to rub at the tension headache that was taking root.

A few more keystrokes and he stopped to stare at the screen.  His name?  Why was his name there?  Blinking a few times, he managed to get into the file marked ‘LeBeau’ and saw some of the notes the Professor had been keeping of their sessions.  Furrowing his brow, he read everything listed, as well as speculations and possible treatment options.  It looked like the telepath truly wanted to help him, something that had the corners of his mouth curving slightly in a genuine smile.  It also seemed the older man was right on target with some of his thoughts on the situation.

 _/Hmm… dat’s a little scary/_  At the end of the file, Remy noticed a flag indicating that the doctor would need to obtain a blood sample from him upon the team’s return.  The purpose of said sample would be to analyze genetic code and identify mutant DNA.  Remy leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms and brought one hand up to rub his jaw, dwelling on this last tidbit.  He was already having a difficult time hiding his third mutation from them, thanks to his master’s insistence on removing the blocks.  But, if they discovered it on their own by analyzing his genes, that might bring an end to this mission before he managed to get the information his boss required.  Not a pleasant thought.

Remy was about to continue his attempts to crack the barrier leading to what he was sure was the research information he needed to steal, when a feeling of calm and peace poured over him, causing him to close his eyes and lean his head back at the feelings.  It lasted only a moment when his eyes snapped open, realizing where the feeling came from.  Quickly, he started backing out of everything, praying he could shut it all down before he was discovered.

Storm stepped out of the elevator and was about to make her way to the Danger room, when she noticed the light at the other end of the hallway leading to the med lab.  Confused, she made her way towards the doors, the hallway lights transitioning on and off as she passed.  As the door to the ward swished open, she glanced around and saw the Cajun peeking through cabinets.

“What are you doing down here?” She queried, curiosity and a bit of wariness adorning her features.

For his part, Remy pretended to be startled, jumping slightly at the question and turning wide eyes toward the weather goddess.  “Oh chere, you scare po’ Remy.  Don’t be sneaking up on people like dat.”  He turned on the charm, flashing a disarming grin.  “Just looking for a little ibuprofen.  My head hurts.”  It wasn’t completely a lie.  The tension headache was throbbing quite nicely, painfully squeezing everything within his skull like a vice-grip turned once too often.

She moved towards another cabinet and opened it to reveal various analgesics.  Handing him the bottle, she crossed her arms and watched him take a couple without the aid of water.  “I am sorry you are not feeling well.  Perhaps you should return to your room and lie down for a while?”

“Non, chere.  I’ll be fine once dese pills take effect.”

“Is there anything bothering you that you want to talk about?  I’m a very good listener, or so I’ve been told.”  She smiled warmly at him when he finally focused his gaze on her.  He shook his head, causing her to sigh.  It was expected.  She had been at this school long enough to recognize that there are some who open up in their own time.  “Well, if you ever do, I’m here.”  She walked forward and touched his arm.  “We are all here to help.”  Not sure exactly what possessed her, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before turning to leave. 

Remy blinked, then blushed as he raised a hand to touch the spot.  It was confusing to him.  He knew it was nothing but a friendly gesture, but it was something he rarely received from anyone and it chipped at something hard in his heart, allowing something to escape that he was not ready to acknowledge with these people.  He needed to leave this place for a little while, give himself some time to rein in his errant emotions.  After the doors closed behind her, he logged back onto the computer quickly and adjusted the inventory list he had discovered earlier.  After shutting down again, he gathered some of the medicines and left the room.  A quick stop in the kitchen to gather a few supplies and he was soon on his way to the city.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

Logan cleaned up and made his way to the dining area for the evening meal.  He wanted to corner the kid and talk to him.  The sooner they aired this thing out between them, the better off they both would be.  As he entered the room, however, only the Professor and Ororo were there.

Acting as unconcerned as possible, he piled his plate with food and casually asked, “Where’s the kid?”

“He has gone into the city for dinner.”  Storm passed him a bowl of mashed potatoes from her side of the table.

Logan paused mid-scoop.  “Gone to the city?”  He turned an accusatory glance towards Xavier.  “And you let him?”

The Professor blinked and pursed his lips before answering.  “He is not under house arrest, Logan.  He can come and go as he pleases, within the rules.” 

Though the man was right, it just didn’t sit well with the feral, or was it that he was just disappointed not to see him?  Logan shook the thought from his mind.  The Professor studied Logan for a moment before sending a mental message to Ororo.  She raised her head to look at them both before making an excuse.  “Well, if you two will excuse me.  I think I will take this last night of peace and enjoy my meal in front of the television.  It is not often that I have control of the remote.”  She smiled and gathered her meal before making her way out of the room. 

Once she was gone, Logan dropped his fork and stared at his food.  He suddenly lost his appetite and waited for the other man to ask his question.  “Logan…”

“Can it, Chuck.  I don’t wanna hear it.”  He interrupted.

The telepath continued, as if scolding a child.  “Tell me what has happened between the two of you in such a short amount of time.”

Logan sighed.  “I dunno know what the hell.  I just…”  Suddenly he pushed away from the table and stood up, moving to the window and keeping his back to the Professor.  “He’s affectin’ me.  When I’m around him, I feel like I‘m losin’ control.  It’s like he’s gettin’ under my skin or somethin’.”  Logan placed one hand on his hip and leaned against the other splayed flat against the wall.  “There’s somethin’ about him that I can’t put my finger on.  I ain’t felt this way about someone since…since….”

“Since Jean?” the Professor finished for him.

Logan’s head snapped around sharply, anger flashing in his eyes.  “She made her choice an’ I respect that.  I ain’t ever pushed.  And now that she’s pregnant, it’s different.  I don’t feel…dammit yer killing me here.  I can’t talk about this shit with you.”  He turned away again, staring into the night outside the glass pane.

Xavier waited, knowing that the older mutant would continue in his own time.  It was several tense minutes later when he saw the shoulders slump.  “It’s stronger with him.  I wanna get close, crawl inside him, figure out how he ticks.  It just don’t feel right for me to take to someone like this, ya know?  It scares the hell outta me.  And I think it’s scaring the hell outta him.”  He slowly turned to face the telepath and the rage that had been in his eyes was replaced with so much emotion that Xavier almost gasped.  “I can’t stand it no more, Chuck.”

Xavier moved his chair forward, until he was next to Logan.  He carefully reached out and clasped the feral’s forearm.  “I can not tell you what to do, my friend.  It is something you will have to work out for yourself.  But, know this.  You are a trusted member of this team and, despite your worries, I know you will do the right thing.  You proved as much with Jean.  If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.  Don’t let fear of the unknown turn your friendship sour.”       

Xavier patted his arm then turned his chair to leave.  He paused at the door and glanced back.  “I urge you to be careful with the young man, Logan.  There are things that have happened to that boy that may cause him not to believe your sincerity.  Trust your instincts to be your guide.”

As Logan watched him glide out of the room, he rubbed the back of his neck.  “That may be easier said than done.” He muttered to himself.

End ch 13


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: I don't know French or Cajun French, so my apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. If I put any in this fic, it came from online translators and La library archives. Because this is an AU, some of the characters in this story may seem OOC.
> 
> Warnings 2: I don’t know Spanish despite the fact that a descent size percentage of the population where I live speaks it. My apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. 
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

CH 14

Remy pulled into the alley and parked the bike.  Making his way to the grate, he opened his shields to make sure the coast was clear.  After lifting the heavy metal plate, he climbed down into the tunnel and paused to get his bearings.  The smell in this part of the tunnels was always pungent, making it the perfect entry point to the Morlock’s dwellings.  No one in their right mind would come down here.  He held his breath and started to jog towards the side tunnel several hundred yards from the stairwell.  Rounding the corner, he released the air in his lungs and breathed shallowly, as he continued towards his goal.  The smells were dwindling to tolerable levels.  He knew that they would be almost unnoticed by the time he found Kale. 

When he reached the end of the tunnel, there was a cyclone fence blocking another, seemingly abandoned tunnel.  He produced a set of lock picks and set to work.  After a few moments, the latch released and he ghosted into the tunnel, making sure to lock the fence behind him.  Another few hundred yards of left and right turns, the tunnel suddenly spilled into a massive cavern.  Remy was always amazed at the sight.  The cavern was divided by hanging fabric sheets and blocks of stone, into little dwellings, allowing a modicum of privacy for the few inhabitants of the clan.  As he walked further into the township, some of the members noticed him and shied away.  Remy pretended not to let this affect him, after all it meant nothing to him and he was quite used to being the outsider everywhere he went; it didn’t make the rejection any less painful, though.  It wasn’t like he could really blame them for being wary of strangers.  No matter how much food and medicine he brought, he would always be the one who could live topside with the flatscans, the one that could pass as normal. 

The whispers made it through the camp faster than Remy, and Kale walked briskly forward to embrace him, ignoring the slight tensing of the younger mutant.  Kale knew that it was nothing personal.  Remy just wasn’t accustomed to friendly touches; a fact that saddened the older man. 

“Remy!  It’s so good to see you.”  Kale noticed the other members of their family standing a little way off and frowned.  “You should all be ashamed of yourselves.  Remy is our friend.”

“It not’ing Kale.” Remy waved him off and quickly changed the subject.  “Look I brought some medicines and food” he added, handing him the bags that he brought. “Where Krystal be at?” 

“Ella y los otros niños…..lo siento Remy…All de kids gone to another part of de tunnels para lessons y training.”  A small, round faced woman with jet black hair stepped up behind Kale, slipping her arm into her husband’s as she smiled at the red-eyed mutant.

Remy’s vision shifted to the woman, a smile of recognition finding it’s way to his lips.  She was Krystal’s mother, a spitfire in her day.  The temper she could wield was a frightening thing, and not one person in the camp would dare to cross her path.  Though the years had settled in her body, the frumpiness covered by a worn, pastel skirt and sky blue blouse, she was still lovely and could be as charming as the Cajun, when she wished.  “Hola Rosa.  Cómo usted?”

She giggled at him a few moments before piercing him with warm, glinting eyes.  “Close, Remy.  Keep working at it, sí?”  Releasing her husband’s arm, she moved towards the younger mutant and pushed herself up on her toes, barely reaching to just under his jaw line, and planted a quick kiss on the stubble of his chin.  “Now, come have some tea.”  She started to drag him towards one of the small partitions at the back where she, Kale, and Krystal lived.

He planted his feet and gently removed his arm from hers, patting her hand to lesson the hurt feelings.  “Non, petite.  Can’t stay dis time.  Got some business to take care of.” 

Kale frowned.  While he didn’t know what kind of business Remy had, he was fairly sure it would be dangerous for his friend.  “Krystal will be disappointed that she missed you.  Are you sure you can’t stay for a while?”

Guilt gnawed at him, as he shook his head.  “M’sorry Kale.  You know I wish I could.”  Remy paused a moment, biting his lower lip before continuing.  “Kale, is….is Dimitri still part of de clan?”  At the sudden change in topic, it took the older mutant a moment to answer, nodding to his friend in answer to the question.  “He be an energy based mutant, non?”  Another nod and a slightly confused expression answered the Cajun’s question.  Remy stopped, mulling over his thoughts, as if to find the best way to approach the subject.  “T’ink you can ask him to be here day after tomorrow?  I need him to do a favor for me.”

“I can ask him, Remy.  You know we are all happy to help you, even if most of us can’t seem to show you that.”  Kale cast a glare in the direction of all the staring Morlocks surrounding them.  “What do you need from him?”

“Just need a couple vials of his blood.”  That seemed to shock the older man and he took an involuntary step back.  Remy held out his hands in a placating gesture.  “Non, Kale, it not’ing bad.  Promise.  Just need a little help passing a test.”  Remy gave a quick overview of the situation, only supplying relevant information in his attempt to reassure the other mutant.  

“Alright, Remy.  I’ll ask him to come.  Rosa can draw the blood for you, since she has some medical knowledge.  Is there anything else we can help you with?”  Remy shook his head and expressed his gratitude to the man whose life he once saved.  There were times Remy still couldn’t believe the man and his clan had come to accept him, although most were tentative around him.  He made his goodbyes and left amidst promises to bring more food in the near future.

Once he was on the street, he located the nearest payphone and dropped in a few coins, after glancing around to make sure he was relatively isolated.  Fingers dialed the familiar number almost on autopilot, Remy trying hard to push down his anxieties.  After a moment, the line connected with his self-appointed tormenter.  “Well now, pet. Thought I was gonna have to track you down.” 

Remy gripped the phone so hard, his knuckles turned white.  “Lemme speak to Lehnsherr, Creed.”

The man on the other end of line let loose a dark chuckle.  “Who ya think you’re talking to, boy?  Ya don’t give me orders.  I give them to you and ya damn well better follow ‘em.” 

Gritting his teeth, Remy’s other hand came up to grab the side of the phone box, absently starting to send a charge through the material as his eyes stared hard into the distance.  “Look, I ain’t got time for dis.  I wanna…”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want.” Victor cut him off with a growl.  “The boss man wants to see ya in person.  So, get yer ass down here yesterday, punk.”  With that, the line went dead, as the feral slammed the phone down on his end. 

Remy sighed, about to bring his hand up to rub the tension from his eyes, when he noticed the glowing phone booth surrounding him.  His eyes widened as he gasped and tightened his hold on the side of the box, drawing the power back into himself.  He couldn’t help letting a hysterical nervous laugh escape his throat as the potential electrical explosion was averted.  After a few moments, he regained his control, the laughter dying as he leaned against the side of the booth.  “Almost blew my own self up.  Merde.”  It was testament to just how rattled the Cajun was.  He retrieved his bike and headed towards the docks. 

*************

The base that his current boss had setup was in one of the abandoned warehouses at the furthest end of the wharf, far removed from prying eyes.  The warehouse had been converted to office space in some vain attempt to revitalize the area; the investors finally throwing their hands up in defeat as the economy slumped.  Magneto had managed to snag the property for next to nothing and enhanced the exterior and interior walls to provide soundproof privacy, as well as nearly impenetrable security for the occupants within.  As Remy drove to the building and lowered his kickstand to park, he was well aware of the hidden cameras watching.  He strolled to the door and entered a code into the keypad, hearing the locking mechanism disengage briefly to allow entry.

No sooner was he through the door than he was grabbed from behind, a large clawed hand roaming over his body intimately.  “Hey there, lovely” Creed whispered huskily in his ear.  “Ya know I got to check ya for weapons.”  The investigation of his person continued, the feral’s hands groping in all his sensitive places, and Remy resisted the urge to shove his elbow into the ribcage directly behind him.  One last squeeze on an ass cheek and the big man was backing away.  “Yer clean, pretty boy.  He’s waiting in his office.”

Remy pulled up an artificial sexy grin from somewhere and turned a well-practiced coquettish look towards the larger man.  “Y' always know how to make a homme feel welcome.”  He shifted away from the leering golden haired mutant and made his way down a long hall, towards the back of the building.  He approached the door all too soon and reached to turn the knob, steeling himself for the meeting with a deep sigh.  But, the door flew open before his hand touched the knob, startling him as he jerked back in surprise.  That could only mean one thing…his boss was pissed.  Damn.

“Come in, Gambit.” Erik called out, disdain dripping from his voice.  Remy swallowed hard and moved inside, standing directly in front of the large metal desk and waiting.  Creed was not so stupid.  He remained outside of the room, within earshot, but not within sight.

Lehnsherr took a few more minutes to peruse through the papers in his hand, before setting them down and turning a cold gaze towards the thief.  “I have not heard from you as I expected.  I trust you have made some progress in your assignment?”  Remy swore he felt the temperature in the room drop and imagined ice beginning to form on the furniture in the room – the metal furniture in the room.  Everything was completely metal, the whole room one big weapon.  _/Merde/_.

“Non” Remy replied, proud of the calm way he stated his failure.  “Mais, I be close.” He was quick to interject, seeing the blood rushing to his boss’s face; a sure sign the man was livid.  “I t’ink I found de files, mais de security on it pretty tight.  It gonna take a little longer to break de code wit’out being discovered.”

Erik took several deep breaths, standing to his full height, as he rounded the corner of the desk and placed himself directly in front of the Cajun to look down upon him.  “This is taking too long, LeBeau.  I expected results within the first few days.”

It took every ounce of his will not to step back when the Master of Magnetism came from behind his desk.  The man was unreasonable in his wants, they both knew it.  But, Remy also knew he couldn’t point that flaw out.  He was in no position to argue.  “Oui.  Mais, you know de security gonna be tight on dat kinda information.  Maybe even impossible for most.  Dat’s why you send me, non?”  Remy pushed a little of his charm towards the older man, hoping he wouldn’t notice.  “You know I be just about de only one gonna be able to get dis for you, eh?  Just gotta give me some time, monsieur.”

Magneto relaxed some, tilting his head slightly in an appraising way.  “Perhaps you are right, Gambit.  I am being impatient.”  Remy started to smile and was completely unprepared for the slap that rocked his head sideways and jerked him off balance.  Erik’s eyes blazed fire as a muscle twitched in his jaw.  “Do not try your powers on me, you little whore of a thief.  I am not so easily swayed.” 

Remy’s hand shot out to balance himself on the edge of the table, the other hand coming to rub the sting from his cheek.  “M’sorry, monsier.  Remy having problems controlling his self since de master removed de blocks.” He lied. 

Magneto didn’t call him on it, merely turning to place himself behind the desk once again, distancing himself from the Cajun before he did something they would both regret.  “Be that as it may, it would be best if you did your utmost best to control yourself in my presence.  Now…” he shuffled through some of the papers on his desk, as if looking for something in particular, and then looked back at the thief as his composure was restored.  “…obviously, whatever you are doing to gain access to their systems is not working.  Or rather, not working as fast as I would like it.  Do something else to speed things up.”  Erik dropped to his chair, elbows on the table, as he steepled his hands before him.  The gesture was eerily familiar to Remy, given the sessions with the Professor, but he chose to ignore the thought and focused on the Master of Magnetism.  “I suggest you do what you do best, Remy…seduce one of them.  Make them give you the access you need.  Use your body.”  When it looked like Remy was about to protest, the older mutant silenced him with a wave of his hand.  “It is what you are best at, is it not?”

Remy wanted to wipe the smirk right off the bastard’s face, but merely bit the side of his cheek to hold his tongue.  When he felt like he could speak without inflection in his voice, Remy looked at a spot just above his boss’s head.  “Who do you want me to seduce?”

Magneto snorted, waving his hand dismissively.  “I don’t care.  Pick one.  Just get me my results.  I will give you a few more weeks.”  And just like that, the Master of Magnetism dismissed him.

Remy left the office, listening to the door slam behind him, and made his way to the exit, not really surprised to see the feral waiting for him.  There was nowhere for Remy to go.  Sabertooth reached out and shoved him against the wall, grasping the Cajun’s jaw tightly between beefy fingers as he tilted the boy’s face up to meet his.  He pressed his advantage, stealing a bruising kiss before backing off slightly to drill into the thief’s eyes with his own.  “I don’t care which of those X-bitches ya have to fuck, whore.  Just don’t forget who ya belong to.” 

With the larger man’s face mere centimeters from his, Remy could smell the feral’s fetid breath and quashed the urge to spit in his eye.  The golden haired mutant leaned down to drag a thick, rough tongue up the side of Remy’s neck, causing the Cajun to shudder despite himself.  Creed chuckled and released the younger mutant, stepping back as the thief made his escape.  The next time the boy came to visit, Victor promised himself a little play.

Remy all but ran to his bike, starting the motor and skidding off before he even retracted the kickstand.  He itched to destroy something, preferably a big, furry asshole and his equally nasty boss.  It took most of the ride back to the mansion before his stomach settled from this most recent gut-wrenching encounter.  As he parked the bike in the garage, he sat astride for a few minutes as he contemplated the latest order.  Seduce someone.  The Master of Magnetism actually wanted him to seduce someone.  Worse yet, Creed expected him to seduce one of the females.  So who exactly to approach?  Remy took a cigarette from a pack in his shirt pocket and proceeded to light the tip with his finger, taking a deep draw and letting the smoke linger before casually blowing it out.  He brought one leg up to sit side saddle on the seat and placed his hands on his thigh as he thought about the situation.  The list of possibilities wasn’t exactly overwhelming.  There was the Professor.  Only something about the older man triggered a feeling similar to one he felt when he first met Jean Luc.  He shuddered at the thought of trying to lure someone into bed that was so fatherly in nature.  Besides, the man was a telepath.  The weather goddess seemed like a good choice, such a beautiful woman and luscious figure.  Only he couldn’t seem to make himself feel any kind of lust for her, no matter how hard he tried.  It would be too much like seducing his sister.  He snorted at the turn of his thoughts.  What the hell was wrong with him, thinking of these people as family?  Hadn’t he already learned that lesson?

Drawing another smoky breath, he rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes as he started mentally reviewing the files he had studied.  The mutant known as Jean Grey was out.  She was a telepath like the old man, and if there was one thing Remy had learned long ago, it was to never mess with a telepath, if you valued your sanity.  That ruled out her husband as well, Laser Eye or whatever the hell he called himself.  Scratching at his jaw, Remy continued to muse.  That bazillionaire, Worthington, was a possibility.  True, the man was dating some British floozy, but he swung both ways, no matter how far in the closet he tried to keep himself.  Then Remy thought about the British girlfriend of the winged mutant, remembering what he read about her, and quickly dismissed his plans to go after either one of them.  “Damn telepat’s” he muttered dejectedly to no one in particular.  What an impossible assignment.

Remy raked a hand through his unruly hair and sighed heavily.  The doctor in this group…well, no matter how much Remy tried, there was no way he could muster up the pretend desire for the Beast, as his folder was labelled.  He could get past the fur and the over-large extremities if necessary.  But, scientists and doctors just terrified him too much.  There was the girl with the poison for skin.  Now there was a possibility.  Someone who’s never had the pleasure of touch.  He could work with that.  She would be starved for it. 

Remy paused his thoughts and blinked.  “Dieu, what am I t’inkin’.  Can’t do dat to her.”  No matter how many questionable things he may have done in his life, he was just not cruel enough to hurt someone that way.  But, wasn’t that what his boss was asking him to do with the order to seduce someone?  He closed his eyes and rubbed at the headache that seemed to be ever present these days.  Effectively ruling out all of the legal aged inhabitants of this school, there was really only one choice left and it was the one person Remy didn’t want to hurt.  Well Creed and Lehnsherr could both rot in hell, as far as Remy was concerned.  Throwing his cigarette rather violently to the ground before stomping it out, he shifted from his bike and made his way to the door.  He would play it out as the boss wanted, he knew who he had to seduce.  Even though his mind told him it was necessary, his heart told him he already had feelings that were beyond seduction.

He made his way towards the room adjacent to his, seeing the door wide open as if the man was waiting for him.  As he reached the threshold, he leaned against the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other, and stuck the tips of his fingers in the waistband of the front of his pants.  The one he sought was standing on the other side of the room, staring out of the window, well aware of the younger mutant’s presence.

“Wha'cha doing, Logan?”

end ch 14

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ella y los otros niños…..lo siento – she and the other children…I’m sorry  
> Para – for  
> Y – and  
> Hola – hi, hello  
> ¿Cómo está usted? – how are you (Remy says 'Como usted' which is incorrect because he doesn't know Spanish that well, and Rosa tells him to keep working at it - thank you HT)  
> Si - yes


	15. Chapter 15

CH 15

Logan didn’t need to turn around to see who was standing in his doorway. He shifted his gaze slightly to the right and stared at the boy’s reflection in the darkened window. Long, lean legs traced up to narrow hips leaning seductively against the frame. Fingers moved subtlety along a frayed waistband, drawing attention to a very specific region of the boy’s anatomy. The other hand lay relaxed along his thigh, idly rubbing up and down his jeans in small movements.

Remy leaned his head against the wood; his hair falling loosely around his jaw, teasing the creamy patches of skin along his neck. It was an obvious display of sexuality, that solicited the desired effect in the older mutant. Logan could feel his body responding to the sight; his groin tightening and the skin between his knuckles itching to release a blade and rip those clothes off the luscious figure. But, the boy had been avoiding him, running away at the slightest hint of interest. Yet here he was, standing behind him in open invitation, practically calling to Logan like some sort of siren. These were confusing signals and it was enough of a contradiction to give Logan pause, allowing him to regain control of himself, reining in his body’s responses to what it so obviously wanted. 

Logan turned slowly to face the object of his desire. “I’m glad ya stopped by before heading off to bed. I wanted to talk to ya.”

Remy pushed himself off the frame and walked gracefully towards the older mutant, hips swaying enticingly as he moved. He stopped at the foot of the bed that divided the room in half, lowering himself to sit on the edge. “Talk? ‘bout what, mon ami?” One elegant, long-fingered hand smoothed the bedcover beside him, patting it gently in a seemingly innocent request to the feral. 

“Uh…yeh.” Logan stared at the hand beckoning him for a moment, before moving to sit on the edge of the mattress. Rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture, he felt the heat coming from the body beside him and decided to shift a little in the opposite direction. “Look…about the other night…I just wanted to apologize.”

Remy feigned ignorance as he moved his hand back to his thigh, once again gliding his digits along the rough texture of his jeans. “Apologize? For what?”

Intently watching those fingers move, and longing to replace them with his tongue, Logan swallowed hard as he struggled to maintain his composure. There was no mistaking the signals the Cajun was giving him, and it confused him all the more. “Ya know…for coming on too strong.”

“Hmm? How you mean?” Remy leaned his body forward, his eyes fairly glowing as he fixed the feral with a seductive gaze, slowly invading the older mutant’s personal space. He let a little of his charm ooze over the older mutant, the effect almost immediate as Remy saw beads of sweat break out on the other’s forehead.

Logan felt the warm body beside him drawing closer, the hairs on his arms standing to attention as if drawn to the younger mutant like some kind of magnet. Skin prickling, he was finding it more difficult by the moment to keep from ravishing the boy. Squeezing his eyes tight for a moment, he opened them to pin the boy with his gaze, determined to ignore the sensuous display and persevere with his attempts to explain. “Yeh, ya know, for forcing a kiss on ya. I…I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me and it won’t happen again.”

One elegant auburn brow raised as Remy captured those ocean-colored orbs, seeing the maelstrom of emotion swirling just behind those deep, blue pools. “Seem like I recall participatin’ in dat kiss, chere. Can’t force de willin’.” He leaned a little more towards the man, bringing their faces in close proximity.

The essence of the Cajun male sitting next to him was so sweetly intoxicating, almost cloying to his senses. There was a tingling sensation at the edge of his awareness, an all too familiar feeling that set off his primal alarms and had him struggling to maintain control. What was the boy doing to him? 

Vision wavering as his eyes flecked gold, Logan was only dimly aware of the younger mutant’s voice. “Remy t’inks he needs to recreate dat kiss, just so’s you can see it weren’t forced like you t’ought.” The boy closed the final distance and lightly brushed his lips against Logan’s. Logan’s eyes were closed, his breath labored and he was frozen as Remy pulled back to look. Smirking, he leaned forward again and pressed the advantage, tongue coming out to flick along the older man’s lips, requesting entrance. It was the final straw to break Logan’s control. He grabbed Remy by both arms, eliciting a startled gasp from the boy, and pushed him down on the bed. He straddled the younger mutant and attacked his mouth, ravaging that sweet opening like a starving man offered fruit. 

Remy moaned into the kiss, and Logan swallowed it as tongues again dueled for dominance. Frantic hands roamed clumsily up and down as each explored the other, mapping out terrain like blind men; fingers clawing and soothing heated skin through the fabric of the shirts they wore. Logan pushed the kid’s shirt up and attacked a rosy nipple, sucking and teasing until it pebbled in interest. Satisfied with the response, he licked his way across the sternum to lave equal attention on the other. His blood roared in his ears and his focus narrowed to the luscious creature writhing below him. The moans pouring from the Cajun were sending the feral to the very edge. And somewhere in his mind, Logan was at war with himself. This was wonderful, yet it was so wrong. 

All the signs were there, the want and need. He could smell arousal, had smelled it before in the boy’s room the morning after they kissed. He could hear the increased heart rate, the groans of pleasure. He could feel the slight tremble in the boy’s hands, and taste the salt of sweat on the Cajun’s skin. But at the same time, he recalled how completely different this was from the previous encounter under the stars. The remembrance of hesitation from the boy, of caution over getting too close, the electricity that seemed to almost frighten him with the intensity that night in the kitchen – these signs screamed of a young man unused to a true connection with another, unaccustomed to the purity of feelings between two individuals that went so far beyond the physical. 

Instead, the wantonness of the body beneath him told Logan something else, something practiced, rather dark and not easily addressed. It killed his desire faster than a bucket of cold water. He pushed himself up, looking down at the beautiful face, and waited for the boy’s eyes to open with awareness. Lost in the sensations, it took Remy a moment to realize that Logan had stopped moving, had stopped kissing him. Slowly cracking his lids open, he caught the older man staring at him with a strange expression. “What de matter, Logan?” 

There was a space of silence as the older mutant contemplated the Cajun. Finally, he shifted his weight to one arm and brought his other hand to gently push back the hair that was plastered to the boy’s forehead. “Remy.” he whispered, as if afraid to break some kind of spell. Swallowing hard, Remy struggled to understand what he was feeling from the older man. It was all encompassing, the emotions radiating off the man, and it was all directed at him. Remy almost shook is head in denial. Logan eased himself off the slender body and reached out a hand in offering. A pregnant pause ensued as Remy stared at the man, eyes widening slightly in wonder that the older man had stopped, but finally he clasped the proffered hand. They stood together, hand in hand for a moment as their eyes devoured each other, until Logan broke the spell. “I think you should get some sleep, Remy. It’s kinda late, and some of the others will be returning tomorrow, so we’ll need to get things ready.” 

Remy could only follow mutely as the feral released his hand and guided him to the door. At the threshold, he felt compelled to apologize, though he wasn’t quite sure what he had done wrong. “Logan….Remy didn’..” he stammered before being interrupted.

“Shhh…it’s alright. Ya didn’t do nothing wrong. I just need a little time, is all.” At the lost expression on the boy’s face, Logan reached up and cupped his chin, sliding his hand around the back of the slender neck and drawing him down. Placing a chaste kiss on the Cajun’s lips, Logan drew back before it could turn into something more. “It ain’t a rejection, Remy. I do want this. But I want more, too. Can ya understand?”

Remy nodded, though his mind was still in a daze. He wasn’t sure he knew what the older man wanted beyond sex. And he wasn’t sure he could give it to him. But, he could feel there was a connection; had been since the first moment they met. It scared Remy more than anything ever had before. He shuffled across the hall to his own room, pausing briefly in the threshold to look back at the feral. The whole scene was just too confusing. Never before had anyone resisted his charms in the throes of passion. Logan gave him a small smile of reassurance, before closing his own door. 

 

The longer he stared at it, the more it twirled in hypnotic effect. He imagined that the optical illusion could solicit the effect of dizziness on the viewer, keeping one off balance as the pattern swirled about. Whoever chose the wallpaper for this room had a warped sense of style, or perhaps no sense of style at all. Remy turned over, placing his back to the wall as he shifted his contemplation to the door. Is that real wood or simply wood grain veneer over pressed board? 

“Wonder if I could put my foot t’rough dat?” he mused. “Wonder how much it would cost to fix de hole?” After a minute of debating the pros and cons of solid wood, Remy gusted out a hefty sigh and turned away, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. That was pointless; he had already estimated the amount of acoustical texture the panels might hold. “Dammit!” he hissed as he rose to a sitting position, slumping over his legs. One forearm rested heavy on a thigh while the other hand came up to run slender fingers through auburn locks, his hand coming to rest on the back of his neck and rubbing at the tension forming as he hung his head. It seemed another sleepless night was in store. 

He was amazed that the older man had spurned him. Never before had he been turned away, when approaching someone for sex. It was a new experience for him and he wasn’t exactly sure if he should be upset or pleased. There was a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach for the man that said no. It made him feel somehow respected, especially in light of the older mutant stating his desire for Remy as more than a fuck-toy. But, despite all that, it left him feeling frustrated…and horny as hell. 

Taking a deep breath, he decided to see if he could feel the feral in his sleep, as he had previously when the man had a nightmare. Flicking his eyes quickly to the clock, he decided that the Professor was probably asleep as well and, therefore, Remy felt safe to lower his shields and focus on the mutant across the hall. Eyes closed, and breathing deeply, he reached out with his talent and concentrated on the feral. Almost immediately he was slammed with lust, causing his eyes to snap open and a sharp intake of breath. But there was more; an underlying current of a deeper, more powerful emotion that Remy didn’t want to think about just now. So, he focused on the lust. The man may have asked Remy to leave without having sex, but he wasn’t apparently going to deny himself release. 

Remy fell back into the bed, moaning slightly as the feelings took over. One hand glided down his torso of its own accord, teasing his nipples and circling his navel. The other hand moved up to caress his face, two fingers slipping between his lips, allowing his tongue to encircle them lovingly. Further down the fingers slid, twining gently through wiry curls of auburn hair to tickle the tender flesh beneath until, “Oh…merde!” at last, they reached their prize, stroking slowly along the rising shaft and gripping it at the base. Remy could sense the older mutant’s desire for him and desperately wanted to reciprocate the feelings. Pushing his own growing lust towards the feral, he instantly sensed where Logan’s hand rested. But, he was afraid of the other man discovering. At this distance, with walls between them, he wasn’t sure if he could control his charm so precisely, so he didn’t risk it. Instead, he basked in the glow of the older man’s hunger as they both worked themselves in unison.

Hips began to move, building a steady rhythm as his hand worked his engorged cock. Beads of liquid pearled at the top, and he slid his thumb over the head to spread the fluid around, easing the burn of friction against the tender flesh. Logan was getting close, he could feel it. Pumping faster, he brought his moistened fingers down to fondle his sac, cupping and lifting them to reach his entrance. Legs bent, bracing his feet against the bed as he began bucking his hips in earnest, his fingers dipping just inside his passage. He could no longer restrain himself, his moans growing loud and free as he completely lost himself to the erotic sensations. Remy imagined Logan moving within him, as he thrust harder into the tunnel created by his hand. Sweat ran in rivulets down his chest. 

He felt the crash of the feral’s orgasmic bliss against his shields and it overwhelmed him, causing his own release to burst free. A strangled cry escaped his throat as he grasped the pillow above his head with his free hand, back arching, hips pushing the last few strokes; freezing in mid-air to completely spill his seed over his stomach and chest. Gasping for breath, he fell back to the bed, his cock still in hand as he slowly returned to himself. A sated smile made its way to his face and he wriggled in the bed sheets basking in the warm after glow. The feelings from the older man had been intense, and directed fully at him. Remy’s smile faltered as the reality of the situation took hold. 

“Logan” he whispered. Remy wasn’t sure he liked where his heart was trying to take him. There was no room in his life for that kind of hope. He decided to ruthlessly clamp down on those feelings and lock them away. The boss would not be merciful if he failed in his assignment, and Remy had no doubt the sadistic bastard would find his greatest weakness and use it against him. 

He felt a stinging sensation behind his eyes and quickly rubbed his lids, before hauling his carcass out of bed. A quick glance at the time caught him by surprise when he realized that more than an hour had passed. Yet, he was even more restless than before his body’s release. He needed to cleanse the stickiness from his skin and attempt, yet again, to get some sleep. Moving into the shared bathroom at the end of the hall, Remy paused briefly to see if Logan might venture from his room with the same goal in mind. But then he recalled that the older mutant had his own private bathroom, one of the few in the mansion who did, and he sighed as he proceeded to rinse the evidence of his passion from his body. 

After showering, he donned a pair of sweatpants before walking back towards his room, rubbing a towel over his head to remove the excess water from his hair. He was half-way down the hall when he stopped. Cocking his head to one side, he thought he heard a noise. Listening intently, he picked up on the faint sound of humming. Legs were moving before he had time to think as he made his way to the stairs leading to the loft. The sound of a female voice grew louder as he climbed the stairs, and he paused just outside her door as he listened to the song she was crooning. It was easy to find his smile again as he lightly rapped on her door.

“Yes?” Ororo’s questioning voice filtered through.

“It Remy, chere. May I come in?”

She bid him entry and he strolled into her room, taking a moment to appreciate all of the feminine touches that marked this as her domain. She was standing on the far side of the room, next to an open window, her hands paused in pruning some sort of small tree-like plant. 

Remy looked around for a place to sit. Considering the size of the loft, and all the plants and decorations that gave the room a welcome feel, it was surprisingly sparse of furniture. Deciding the only place to sit was the floor or the apparently unkempt bed, he sauntered over to the edge of the mattress, and plopped himself down on top of one lump. A panicked cry was heard from under the covers, startling the Cajun until he hopped away as if burned. 

“What de…?” he threw a shocked look towards the weather goddess and noticed her giggling. The lump began to move, heading for the edge of the mattress, following the bedding to the floor, until a small furred calico kitten ran out of the covers and towards its mistress, crying all the way. It took a moment for the entire scene to play out, before Remy found himself chuckling. “M’sorry. Didn’t mean to squish your cat.”

Ororo reached down and scooped the little fur-ball in her arms, one finger stroking between its eyes to calm the creature. “It’s fine. He enjoys playing hide-n-seek in my bed, unfortunately.” She turned a brilliant smile towards the Cajun, before continuing. “His name is Patches. I found him when I was visiting my friends in the city. The Professor said I may nurse him back to health, before we have to find him a home.” She looked down at the small animal, adoration shining in her eyes. “I’m hoping to convince him to let us keep him. I think having an animal around for the children to take care of will teach them responsibility and compassion for other creatures.” 

Ororo moved to the window bench and sat down, turning her full attention to the young man sitting across the room from her. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit so late in the evening?”

He caught her eye for a moment before looking at the floor, flushing slightly. There was no way he would share his real reasons for insomnia. “Heard you singing. You have a beautiful voice, chere. Peaceful even.” 

The white haired mutant beamed with the praise. “Thank you, Remy. I enjoy singing to my plants. I am also practicing.”

His brows rose at that. “Practicing? For what? Gonna go pro or somet’in?”

Her laugh was a pleasant sound, warming in its sincerity. “No. Practicing for when my adopted niece and nephew arrive.” At the puzzled look on the boy’s face, she smiled and picked up a bottle of water, spritzing some of the leaves with one hand while cradling her little pet in the other. “One of our team members is pregnant with twins. You’ll meet her and her husband tomorrow. I’m looking forward to babysitting. The nice thing about being an adopted aunt is that I can spoil them rotten….” She turned a sly glance his way, conspiracy written all over her face, “…and then give them back when they’re all worked up.”

Remy laughed with her. “Oh dat be cruel, chere.” He fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Just too cruel. I t’ink you and I gonna be real good friends.”

The laughter died down between them. Smiling over at the boy, she put down the bottle and resumed stroking her purring kitten. “Yes. I would like that very much. Now tell me, Remy, why are you really here. Can’t sleep?”

Remy swallowed hard, deciding he would have to tell her enough to keep her satisfied without sharing more than he was prepared to deal with. “Oui.”

“Ah. I can understand. This must all be new for you. You seem to be under a lot of stress” She didn’t bother to acknowledge his sharp gaze. Remy wondered exactly how much the beautiful weather goddess had deduced on her own. He sighed heavily, wanting so badly to just tell her everything and see if together they could come up with some sort of way out of the nightmare his life had become. 

She paused for a moment, biting her lower lip as if to decide whether or not to say what was on her mind. “Logan told me about the food. He thinks you are worried we might let you starve.” She looked up at him then, pinning him with her gaze. “But, I’m not so sure. I think there is more to it than that, perhaps contributing to your stress.”

Lips pressed together in a thin line, Remy didn’t answer as he continued staring at her ceiling. The thought that the feral had talked about him after all didn’t sit well with him. Though he had to admit that the older mutant talking with the wind rider was a hell of a lot better than sharing suspicions with the Professor. 

“Whenever you are ready Remy, you can trust us.” Frowning slightly at the lack of reaction from the Cajun, Ororo turned her attentions back to the creature in her arms. “Cats are interesting creatures. They are so self-sufficient, yet need to be taken care of. They act like they prefer their solitude, wanting nothing to do with anything or anyone. Yet, unconsciously seek out a companion, if only to be in the same room with another. Plants are similar. They can survive on their own, but they thrive and grow to their full potential when I nourish them and talk or sing to them. It can be so frustrating sometimes. But it is just as fulfilling.” Remy listened to her ramble on about her plants and her kitten, her voice melodic and even. Though he realized she was probably trying to make some kind of point, his mind began to wander and eyes glazed over in exhaustion. 

Turning her attention to the kitten in her arms, Ororo started humming softly. She began to sing a lullaby to the animal, lulling it to sleep.

~la la lu, la la lu   
oh my little star sweeper  
I'll sweep the star dust for you  
la la lu, la la lu   
little soft fluffy sleeper  
here comes a pink cloud for you~

She glanced over and noticed Remy’s lids drifting closed. Her voice was hypnotic and waves of peace washed over him and he found it hard to hold onto consciousness; choosing instead to let go and float to the welcome embrace of elusive sleep.

~la la lu, la la lu   
little wandering angel  
fold up your wings, close your eyes  
la la lu, la la lu   
and may love be your keeper  
la la lu, la la lu, la la lu~

Ororo continued to hum a while longer, until she was certain that he was well and truly asleep. A soft smile touched her lips as she quietly moved over to the bed, pulling an afghan from a nearby drawer to drape over his body. 

“Goodnight Remy.” she whispered as she floated down the stairs, avoiding the creaking noise that the steps were prone to make. Tonight, the guest room would suit her needs just fine.

end ch 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby that Storm sings in this chapter is from the Disney movie Lady and the Tramp.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ch 16**

 

The back of a dainty hand came up to stifle a yawn, as Ororo made her way towards the kitchen.  She had willingly given up her bed to the handsome Cajun last night, seeing that he had fallen into a much needed, peaceful slumber.  The look on his face reflected the little boy he most likely never got to be, and she sighed dreamily at the ability to provide him one restful night.  It was something she would gladly do again.  But damn that bed in the guest room was so hard!  Her back ached, the stiffness of the mattress allowing no give to her poor tortured body.  She missed the soft feathery feel of her pillow-top mattress.  And the room was incredibly tiny; nothing like the spacious feel of her loft.  The ceiling had closed in on her all night to the point where she had to consciously battle her claustrophobia.  No, she knew she couldn’t have denied the young man something like a good night’s sleep when it was in her power to give it.  After all, in the short amount of time he had been with them, she had come to view him as a family member of sorts, an emotional response that she decided not to analyze too deeply, though it was rather unlike her.  But if the circumstances were to occur again, she would just have to roll him over to one side and he could share.

 

She felt tired and a little irritable, and it was obvious to Ororo that she would need to make extra effort on her part to contain it.  But, despite this recognition, she couldn’t help crinkling her nose at the smell that hit her as she walked into the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Logan on the opposite side of the table, smoking a nasty ‘tube of death’ and reading the paper.

 

“Must you smoke those vile things in here?”   She said it with more venom than she had intended.

 

Logan simply growled at her from behind the paper, a decent night’s sleep eluding him as well.  “I’ll smoke ‘em where I damn well please.”  He responded without looking away from the paper.

 

She paused and simply stared at him.  Charles had long ago, and after much wrangling, reached a tolerable compromise with Logan.  The feral was allowed to smoke one cigar a day within the walls of the mansion, but only in the confines of his room or when no other members of the household were around; as long as the smell did not permeate the furnishings and cast a continuous offensive odor.  Logan chose this morning to indulge. 

 

Outside, a faint roll of thunder sounded in the distance.  Logan flicked the corner of the paper down to eye the weather-witch, letting a low rumbling growl build in his throat – two could play at that game.

 

“What?  Ya gonna hit me with a bolt o’ lightnin’?”

 

Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose, working to get her emotions under control.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry I snapped.  Please, let’s start over.  Good morning, Logan.  Will you please extinguish the cigar at the breakfast table?”

 

He took a deep drag, his one pleasure spoiled before the day had even begun. Not feeling in a particularly forgiving or congenial mood, he blew the smoke out in a great ball towards the weather goddess.  “I’ll smoke where I damn well please.” He reiterated.

 

Brows drawing together in anger, she gave him a level look.  “Do not test me, Logan.  I have asked you nicely.”

 

“Nah, ya didn’t.  Ya came in and demanded.”

 

“And I have apologized and tried again.  I will only say this one more time.”

 

“Or ya’ll do what?”  Logan snapped the paper and turned his gaze away, rudely dismissing her presence as he continued to puff away.  He was in no mood to play happy family this morning as he leaned the chair back on two legs.

 

Ororo arched a brow.  “So you will not put it out?”

 

“That’s right, sister.”  And as if to emphasize his point, he took another long drag, pursing his lips to blow rings.

 

“Very well.”  Her eyes turned white as she concentrated.  Suddenly a tiny cloud appeared above Logan’s head.  He only had a moment to note the small thunder clap that drew his attention to the formation, before a deluge of water rained down on him.  He was so startled by the action that his chair fell over backwards, dumping him - as well as his drenched and soggy cigar - and paper to the floor.  Seeing Logan sprawled out, sputtering and gasping in an undignified manner, while his wet hair fell around him like some great shaggy beast, was enough to lighten even Ororo’s mood, and she didn’t bother to hide her enjoyment of the scene. 

 

“The HELL?!?!?!” he spat, mortified at the ruination of his precious stogie.  Ororo walked gracefully over to his side and squatted down to stare him right in the eye, her amusement plainly displayed on her face.  “What d'ya do that for?”

 

“I did ask nicely, Logan.”

 

“Awe hell, ‘Ro.  I was gonna put it out.  I was only messin’ around.” He groaned, mourning the loss of a perfectly good cigar.

 

She put one finger under his chin, to tilt it her way so that she had his undivided attention.  “Ah, but it’s not nice to mess with Mother Nature.”  She gave him a full-on cheeky grin, before leaning over to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

 

He scowled at her, casting a deadly glare towards the white haired mutant crouched next to him.  The woman was enjoying his discomfiture a bit too much for his taste.  “Well, the least ya can do is to not leave me sufferin’.” 

 

Ororo shook her head and stood, reaching a hand down to help her team mate.  She pulled the wasted stump from his hand and deftly tossed it into the trash receptacle on the other side of the room.  At the continued frown on his face, she pouted at him for a moment, her eyes donning a puppy-dog look.  “Awe, don’t be that way, Logan.  I’ll grow you another one.  Now, sit.”  He grumbled a moment, but did as she bid and was rewarded with a nice warm breeze that rapidly dried his clothes, skin and hair.

 

***************

 

Two floors above, in the upper most level of the mansion, a lean, lithe form stretched like a great cat.  Muscles pulling and tensing in all directions, Remy was brought up short by a sharp pain in his lower back.  “Mon Dieu!  Dis bed like sleeping on a sponge.”  It was just too soft, the mattress offering no support to his body.  After standing, he performed a few calisthenics to work out the knots in his muscles, yawning one last time before making his way downstairs.  As he approached the kitchen, he could feel the irritation and amusement coming from within.  He paused outside the door, steeling himself to face the feral after the intensity of last night, and pulled up his smile from somewhere as he entered the kitchen.  The first look at the older mutant and he no longer had to fake the grin.  The man was an absolute picture of misery with his hair sticking straight out at all angles and a scowl on his face as he stared despondently at the ruined newsprint in front of him.  On the other side of the kitchen was the white haired beauty in whose room he had slept, merriment dancing in her eyes towards her disgruntled team mate.  “Do I want to know?”

 

“No” came the bark from Logan.

 

Ororo giggled softly and motioned for Remy to sit as she finished preparing breakfast for the three of them.  When the meal was served, Remy looked up at her, pointing a piece of bacon in her direction.  “Dis good, chere.  And t’anks for last night.”  He didn’t miss the sharp snap of the older man’s neck as he whipped his eyes towards him.  Suddenly, he felt a roiling in his stomach and the need to quickly explain, but Storm beat him to the punch.

 

“Well, I’ll have to admit, it’s not everyday someone falls asleep in my bed while I’m in the middle of discussing the finer points of plant care.”  She joked, then her face softened.  “You were very tired.  It looks like you haven’t been sleeping well.  I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.  I hope you enjoyed my comfortable bed.  I have to say, the one in the guest room is like sleeping on a rock.”

 

Remy chuckled.  “Was ‘bout to say your bed be way too soft for dis Cajun.  Je suis desole for causing you to sleep in discomfort last night.”

 

She waved him off.  “Don’t worry about it.  Next time, I’ll just roll you over and make you share.”  She gave him a wink and a mischievous grin before settling down to eat her food.

 

Logan had been listening to the banter with keen interest, while trying to remain indifferent to the conversation.  After all, his sense of smell was second to none in the mansion and he had detected nothing from Storm’s area as he’d made his way to breakfast.  He listened to them continue their conversation over the pros and cons of soft versus hard mattresses, only tuning into half of it, but glancing occasionally at them.  He noticed the boy covertly glancing back through those long wisps of auburn bangs, and struggled to contain the smirk that threatened his lips.

 

“How are your sessions going with the Professor” Ororo asked innocently as she prepared to spread jam on a piece of toast.

 

Remy’s face shuttered.  “Fine.”

 

Logan arched a brow, but said nothing.  He knew from talking with the Professor that it was anything but.  Xavier was very good at keeping confidentialities, but had sought out his help in trying to get the boy to open up.  The telepath was fairly sure there were things that Remy was not telling them.

 

Ororo paused, glancing at the closed expression on the Cajun’s face, before continuing.  “Yes, of course.  But I shouldn’t pry.”  She took a bite of her toast and began to diligently chew, just to have something to keep her mouth busy. 

 

The sigh from across the table was barely noticeable.  Why he felt guilty for not baring his soul to these people was beyond his capacity to understand.  There was no rational reason as to the feelings he was developing towards his targets.  “I...It not prying when you concerned for an…ami?”  The sentence turned into a question.

 

Ororo smiled at him.  “Most assuredly, Remy LeBeau.”  She noted some of the tension in his shoulders eased with her answer.  She stood to deposit her dishes in the sink and turned to excuse herself.  “Don’t forget the others will be arriving later.  Remy, you remember you will be cooking for a larger number this evening?”

 

“Oui” he said quietly.  She smiled and made her exit, leaving just the two men.

 

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two and Remy played with the food that remained on his plate.  Without looking at the older man, he decided to broach the topic.  “Logan, ‘bout last night.  I’m…”

 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, kid.”  The older mutant interrupted.

 

Remy’s brows drew together in confusion.  “T’ought you might want to talk 'bout it.”

 

“Ain’t nothing to talk ‘bout.”

 

Remy frowned.  “Oh” he said softly, disappointment lacing his voice.

 

“I meant what I said.  I ain’t pushin’ ya away, it’s just…I ain’t inta one-nighters.”  Remy’s eyes looked at the feral for the first time and was instantly pierced by deep pools of blue, the intensity of which made him shiver.  “I don’t do things half-way.”  Logan stood up and made his way around the table, coming up next to the younger male, eyes never breaking contact.  “Ya think ya can handle it?”  He murmured.  Remy’s breathing increased as the feral neared him, the power of the older man radiating towards him, causing his skin to tingle and his groin to tighten at the proximity of the warm body beside him.  Never before had he reacted so physically to another’s presence.  It wasn’t even necessary for the other man to touch him now, in order to affect his very soul. 

 

Logan stood there silently, staring down at the younger mutant intensely for several minutes, noting the boy’s physical reactions and struggling to manage his own.  Finally, he spoke to break the spell.  “Don’t forget to meditate at some point today, like I taught ya.”  Logan continued to stand next to the boy, unwilling or unable to move.   

 

Remy swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment to regain control of his wayward body.  “I…I t’ought we were meditating togedder.”

 

“Ya don’t need my instruction anymore.”  He replied.  / _An’ I can’t focus when yer near me._ /  He thought to himself.  At the slight slump in the younger man’s shoulders, Logan’s hand came down and grasped the back of Remy’s neck, pulling the boy up against him.  Lips met and Logan’s tongue plunged into that warm cavern, savouring the feeling of the roof of his mouth, his teeth, his tongue.  He chased that soft warm flesh around, bruising the younger mutant’s lips, as his hand grabbed hold of soft auburn locks and pulled the boy completely out of his chair.  Remy’s own hand came up to grasp the hair on the side of Logan’s head, the other hand fisting the feral’s shirt to steady himself.  After a minute, Logan ended the kiss, pulling away and leaving them both panting hard as he rested his forehead against that of the younger male. 

 

“Dieu” Remy breathed unsteadily. 

 

Logan gust out a chuckle before pulling away.  “My thoughts exactly, Cajun.”  He released the boy and stepped back, eyes boring into those exotic orbs.  “The offer stands, if yer willing.  Think about it, Gumbo.”  And then he was gone, leaving Remy with a mind whirling with possibilities, and an unsatisfied ache in his groin.

 

*********

 

The meeting with the Professor had been shorter than usual, the telepath having several other pressing matters to handle, before the team arrived and the influx of new students at the beginning of the next week.  He made sure the Cajun understood that a shorter session did not mean he was off the hook in regards to assignments given.  Remy understood the necessity of the lessons, continual practice of which would only strengthen his control over his steadily growing powers, but he was still happy to end the meeting early.  The older man was getting too close, drawing things out of Remy that he would rather not remember; bringing memories to the forefront that were better left buried.  And with each new meeting, Remy was afraid something would slip out to give him away.  Despite his developing feelings towards these people, and his growing reservations in the mission he had been given, it was still very important to maintain a cover.  Bad enough the telepath was suspicious of what Remy was hiding. 

 

But even with the pressure mounting, Remy’s mind wasn’t on the mission.  Rather, he found himself continuing to dwell on the feral.  What was it about that man that was drawing Remy to him?  At first, he thought it was the unpredictable wild side of the man, that berserker mode that was just below the surface, kept in check with an iron-clad will.  However, the more he thought on it, the less likely it seemed.  After all, he was already acquainted intimately with another mutant with identical abilities, yet held no desire for that particular feral.  If anything, experiences with Creed had taught him why it’s best to completely avoid a mutant with any kind of untamed beast persona.  It was not so much that he feared a berserker mutant, Remy could protect himself fairly well, his powers strong even before the blocks were removed.  But why risk it?

 

He was not so far gone in his infatuation that he missed the Professor telling him of the blood sample and general checkup the doctor would be performing.  Remy bit his tongue to keep from admitting that he already knew that.  It would just confirm the telepath’s suspicions.  After all, the only way he could possibly know of an impending medical exam would be to sneak a peak at his file on the computer system, and surely Mr. LeBeau would not do such a thing.  Remy chuckled to himself as he sat atop the washing machine waiting for the last round of laundry to cycle.  / _Non, it won’t do for de man to t’ink me a t’ief_ /   His humor slowly faded as the memories began to surface again, and he actively squashed the torturous visions, pulling out a card from his ever present deck to seek out the healing qualities of the meditation techniques Logan taught him.

 

“Merde.” He hissed as he lightly charged the card and flung it away from his body, ignoring the resulting pop as it exploded into so much ash.  Attempting the steps simply brought back the disappointment of the earlier encounter in the kitchen.  The feral didn’t want to meditate with him any longer.  But he had lessened the hurt of that rejection with a searing kiss that made Remy’s toes curl.  A goofy smile made its way back to his face as he thought of that.  It didn’t last, however, as the reality of the situation came back to bite him in the ass.  Sighing, he ran fingers through his hair, willing away the depression that threatened to overwhelm him.  He was ordered to seduce one of the X-men, and Logan was his chosen target.  The trouble was he actually ‘wanted’ to seduce the feral.  He desired the man more than anything he had ever desired before.  And for the first time in as long as he could remember, his wants and needs were in perfect agreement with each other.  Yet the outcome of this whole mission would insure that he would never have the man in his life as anything other than a mortal enemy.  The pain in his gut intensified and he was fairly sure he would have massive life-threatening ulcers by the time this whole scenario played out. 

 

The washer moved into the spin cycle, the machine beginning to hum and vibrate in conjunction with the dryer, creating a delicious rhythm below him.  Heat radiated through his body and Remy began to picture the night before, when the older mutant had pinned him to the bed.  He could almost feel the man’s tongue laving his skin as he brought his own hand up to his neck, gently stroking downwards as he closed his eyes.  His fingertips moved to the top button of his shirt, slowly releasing it through the hole and teasing the soft patch of exposed skin.  Logan was all muscle, well-defined arms as large as any body builder.  Remy remembered the sight of his chest, the rich, thick hair that covered him like a luxurious carpet of fine silk.  A small moan escaped his throat as he fell into the cadence of the machine.  The next three buttons opened just as easily as the first, and he stroked his abdomen, moving to pinch a dusky nipple.  The machines were moving in earnest, the heat beginning to sear through fabric and Remy’s head fell back as he groaned at the sensation.  He lowered himself to lie cross-wise over the top of both units, one leg drawn up while the other dangled over the edge, and he moved his hands lower to fumble with the button of his pants.  It took only a moment to release the zipper, his erection springing forth demanding attention.          

 

Logan couldn’t keep his mind off the boy.  The kiss they shared in the kitchen - not to mention the passion that nearly consumed them the night before - had the feral completely off balance.  It had been a long time since anyone made him feel this way.  It was clouding his thoughts to anything else, consuming every bit of his mind.  What he needed was to work off some steam in the Danger Room.  He was moving along the lower corridor towards the elevator that would take him to the sub-basement level when he heard sounds coming from the area of the laundry room.  It almost sounded like someone was in pain.  Gliding silently along the hall, he stopped at the door to the room, smelling instantly the pungent tang of maleness, even above all the harsh odor of cleaning chemicals.  The boy was in there…and he was pleasuring himself.  Logan’s heart pounded in his chest as he focused all his senses on the Cajun, bending forward slightly to peer through the crack left by the slightly open door.

 

The washer began to rock, and Remy’s head fell back, his body arching into the touch of his hands as he pulled and stroked the hardened flesh between his legs.  The shaking and bucking of the machines against his buttocks were quickly sending him over the edge.  In his mind’s eye, he could see and feel the older mutant behind him, thrusting into him hard and fast.  Remy moaned at the sensations as his ‘dream lover’ squeezed a nipple; fingers falling down to fondle the soft hairs around his twin sacs.  “Oh Oui, mon couer.” He whispered, eyes shut tight as the vision played out in his mind.  The feral was power personified, a beauty all his own as far as Remy was concerned.  He could feel the older man’s hot breath on his neck as the machines vibrated below him.  He continued to stroke his swollen shaft, completely oblivious to the man watching him from the doorway.

 

Logan began to sweat, the sight of this lithe creature, writhing against the vibrations, driving him insane.  The overwhelming desire to enter the room, drag the boy to the ground and fuck him senseless was stirring his inner beast to near frenzy. 

 

Remy was in ecstasy.  The delicious friction of the units against his bottom and his hand on his cock were urging him to completion.  Emotions overwhelmed him, stronger than before, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Remy realized they weren’t all his.  But his mind was too fogged with lust to understand the implications of that, as he continued to stroke himself in time with the bucking machine, enjoying the heat at his back as much as the heat burning his hand.  Unconsciously, Logan’s own hand started to move as he watched the erotic display before him.  Never before had such a wanton act turned him on as much as the one he was witnessing, and he had been privy to many in his long life.  He realized in that moment that it was more than lust; though the lust was a large part of it.  He wanted the boy, desperately, more than anyone else he had ever wanted before.  No sooner did that realization hit him when he heard the evidence that the feelings were more than mutual. 

 

Remy stroked faster, his completion nearing as he watched the vision of his feral lover; feeling the older man’s tongue dip into the shell of his ear and whisper his name.  It was enough to send him over the edge and, with a choked cry, he gasped “Logan!” as he came, ribbons of white cream streaking his stomach.  He tugged a second then a third time, milking every last drop, whispering the name over and over.  Finally, spent, his hands fell lax to the sides of his body.  Dream lover Logan was still rocking into him and Remy sighed with pleasure.

 

Logan fell back from the door to lay his head back against the wall, trying to get his body under control.  The Cajun had called out Logan’s name in orgasmic bliss; the boy really ‘did’ want him.  A slow smile made its way to Logan’s face as the thought sunk in.  But it wouldn’t do for the kid to catch him out here spying.  He had meant what he said about wanting more than a one night stand.  Logan’s hand hovered over his own groin, the unfulfilled ache throbbing as he closed his eyes and willed himself to calm.  “Shit!” He muttered, swallowing hard before turning to stalk away.

 

Remy opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling as the dryer and washer spun to a shuddering stop.  Lifting his head he looked down the length of his body and groaned.  For the second time in as many days, he had given in to his lust.  Suddenly he felt exposed, the possibility of discovery had never entered his mind as he’d pumped himself into oblivion, but now he felt embarrassment and a little disgusted with his wanton behavior 

 

 _/Dieu what’s wrong wit’ you, Remy LeBeau.  You here to do a job and all you can t’ink ‘bout is fucking him./_ He chided himself.Quickly sitting up, he pulled his shirt down and hastily wiped the evidence from his belly, tucking himself awkwardly back into his pants before hopping down from the machines.  The cycles were completed so he threw all the clean clothes into a hamper for transport back to his room, placing the last load of wet clothes in to the dryer.  Sighing as he looked down at his sticky shirt, he decided to wash it by hand as there was nothing else left to justify another load in the unit; there would be just enough time to shower and take care of his clothes before heading down to begin the dinner preparations.  The prospect of meeting the rest of the inhabitants of this mansion caused an anxious flutter in his stomach.  Would they be as accepting as the three he had already met?  Would his feelings towards the other members develop as strongly as they had for the feral and the weather goddess?  And he wondered if he would come to respect any of them as he was beginning to respect the telepath.  Only time would tell.

 

 End ch 16


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in first chapter
> 
> Warnings #2: I don't know Japanese though it's on my list of things to try and do before I die. My apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. The words used and my understanding of their meanings come from my obsession with the Weiss Kreuz, Gundam Wing, and Saiyuki fandoms as well as all the yaoi mangas I've recently devoted a majority of free time to *grin*.

*flashback*

“C’mere chil'. Y’ ol’ Tante ain’t gonna hurt y’ none.” She smiled gently down at the shaking young boy backed tightly into the corner of the kitchen. His body trembled in fear, but his eyes shown with defiance. His thin lips pressed together in a determined attempt to make himself look as fierce as possible to anyone that might settle eyes on him. The fading sunlight of the evening sky allowed only scant visibility as it filtered through the sheer veil of fabric covering the window, highlighting the floating pieces of dust that drifted into its path as it made a pattern of stripes against the little body. Her smile was sad as she looked upon the scene, the hazy orange glow contrasting with the dark bands of shadow made him look like some ethereal creature in a gilded cage. The sting of tears threatened her and she blinked rapidly to keep them from flowing. The boy needed their love, not their pity. “Ain’t y’ hongry chil'?”

Promises of food had been made to him before. He wasn’t about to fall for the same trick again. Simply staring with anger and hatred at the woman before him, he pushed impossibly further back into the unforgiving walls behind him. Why had he tried to pick that man’s pocket? And then, like a fool, he tried to fight the man – kicking, biting, anything to get the monster to release him as he was dragged down the street. There was nothing good that could be waiting for him wherever the man was forcing him to go. But, he was too weak and his struggles wore him to the point of fainting. It was a stupid betrayal of his body to succumb to such a weakness, and he remembered actually smiling at the thought that he would finally find an end to his miserable life. Only an end didn’t come. He woke up hours later, bathed and dressed in clean clothes with no aches or pains to indicate anything taking place while he had been unconscious. He had made his way cautiously through the unfamiliar house, looking for an escape route. But all the doors were locked; the windows sealed. If he thought for one moment that it wouldn’t draw attention to him, he would have picked up something to fling through one of the glass panes. The clank of pots and pans drew him towards a room at the back of the house and he made his way there, only to be confronted by a large, black woman with a nest of dred-locks hanging on both sides of her head, an apron wrapped around her bulky frame and a wooden spoon in hand.

She realized she was getting nowhere with the wary little boy and decided on a different tactic. Turning away from him so that her larger form didn’t loom in a threatening manner, she headed back towards the stove, dipping the wooden spoon into one of the larger pots and stirring. “I’m sure glad y’ came on in here ta help me. It so hard to cook for a bunch a grown men and I’se only got dese here two hands.” She pulled the spoon out, some muddy red colored liquid dripping from the ends as she held both hands out for dramatic effect, her gleaming smile again in place. The tension in his body eased some when he saw the woman stepping away from him. She wanted him to help her? To cook? He didn’t really know how to do that, and started to step forward as she turned back towards the stove humming in her work. Curiosity was winning against fear as he watched her move about the kitchen, seemingly content with her chores and completely unbothered by him. “De secret to any good sauce is de base. And if y’ gonna cook a Cajun dish, y’ gotta have a good rue.”

Completely at ease now, he didn’t notice how close he had approached her until she suddenly turned, startling him. She ignored the flinch and held a pot out to him, waiting patiently for him to grasp it in his little hands. After a few tense moments, he peaked up through his bangs and tentatively reached out to take the pot from her hands, making sure to position his own fingers such that he was far enough away from her own that he could escape if necessary. “Now padnat, take dis here pot on over to de sink and fill it up wit’ some water.”

They spent the morning working together, and Remy relaxed more and more as the hours wore on. She managed to drag a laugh or two out of the little boy, noting how his voice eased over her like sweet molasses. Remy took as many opportunities as he could to watch the older woman, each passing moment causing his stares to turn from wary to admiration and finally to love. It wasn’t something he understood, just a feeling deep down inside that she was a wonderful person. She was warm and tender, the mother he had never known and as the morning wore on, he gradually allowed her touch, and ultimately even allowed hugs; hugging back in time.

When the meals were finally finished, all that was left was the clean up. They stood side by side at the double-sink, one part filled with warm soapy water, the other filled with cool and clear rinsing water. He smiled up at her with such love that her heart clenched in joy. Chuckling, she reached out one sudsy finger and flicked the end of his nose.

“Now make sure y’ get dose pots spotless….”

*end flashback*

“…pots spotless.”

Glazed eyes that had been stuck in the past slowly focused onto the present.

“Remy?”

Remy came back to himself standing at the sink and staring down at the pot in his hand. The water was running continuously, rinsing away the suds as he methodically rubbed the metal over and over. He lowered it to the bottom and grasped the edges of the sink, sighing as he struggled to pull himself from the memory. That was so long ago, almost a lifetime. He turned his head to glance over at the beautiful, white-haired mutant standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “M’sorry, chere. Didn’t hear ya.”

She smiled warmly at him, before pointing at the sink. “I said it looks like you’ve washed those pots spotless.”

He blinked, glanced briefly at the sink, then turned back to the weather goddess and smirked. “Weh, dat’s de way ol’ Tante say….” He stopped, realizing what he was saying, his accent sounding thick even to his own ears. Clearing his throat, he smiled again before continuing. “Uh…I mean, you know what dey say ‘bout cleanliness and all dat.”

Storm cocked her head in curiosity. In the time that the young man had been with them, she had never heard his accent so thick. “Tante?” she asked, having picked up on the name he mentioned before his pause.

Remy frowned and turned back towards the sink, picking up another pan to clean. “Just a lady Remy once knew.”

Recognizing the pointed end to a conversation, Ororo changed the subject. “So what have you been making all this time? It smells delicious!”

The smile was back in place when the Cajun turned towards her again. He moved towards some of the covered dishes, the steam escaping out from the edges of the lids, and gestured dramatically with both hands. “Dis, chere, be de best pasketti and meatballs you done ever eat.”

“Pa…what?”

It was Remy’s turn to look at her curiously. “Pasketti, chere. Ain’t you ever eat Italian dishes before?”

“Italian? You mean spaghetti?” At the nod she received, Storm laughed out loud, one hand coming up to cover her face. “Oh…oh my.” She chuckled, “Ok. Well, yes I’ve had ‘pasketti’ before.” She continued to giggle, causing the Cajun to smile along with her. “Remy, dear, I have to say I love your way with words.” She squeezed his arm, humorous mirth dancing in her eyes.

Storm hummed as the laughter died and she turned back towards all the food. “Looks like you prepared enough for everyone, and then some. Just so you know, you won’t have to cook for all the kids as well as the senior staff. The children have their own separate cafeteria in the main classroom building, another facility separate from the mansion. It comes complete with hired cooks! It’s the Professor’s way of giving us some respite from the hordes of hormones the faculty are bombarded with throughout the day.”

“So dere’s an…” Remy’s words were cut off by the sudden roar of engines just outside, the thunderous sound sending vibrations through the structure around them. Remy gritted his teeth at the shake that invaded his body and glanced over at Ororo, noting her look of irritation.

Once the noise settled down to a muffled whine of engines powering down, she huffed out a breath in exasperation. “Well, I see someone wanted to let the whole neighborhood know they were home. Honestly, is it too much to ask for stealth mode as they park the blasted thing?” She sighed with an air of long sufferance. “Must be Jubilee getting in some practice.” Pausing mid complaint, she smirked and reached for Remy’s hand. “Well come on then. No better time than the present to meet the rest of the staff.” She turned on her heel and guided him out of the kitchen towards the main hallway, and down to the end where the elevator doors swooshed open with the push of a button.

Before the doors could close behind them, Logan stepped in, muttering his obvious disapproval. “Sounds like they’re home.” His hand casually skimmed over Remy’s as he turned his body in the direction of the door. Remy blinked at the contact. Was that an accidental brushing in the enclosed space, or was the older man flirting with him? It took every ounce of his will to remain completely still as the elevator moved, unable to determine if the butterfly feeling in the pit of his stomach was from the sudden descent of the car or from the heat of the man standing mere inches next to him.

“Hn” Ororo responded and stepped back to lean against the rear wall of the car, arms folded across her chest. Briefly closing her eyes as they descended, she opened them again in confusion as she felt the tension in the car rise considerably. It became a palpable thing that could practically be cut with a knife, yet it was not one of malice. One elegant brow arched as she surveyed the men in front of her. Each periodically glanced at the other, Remy with a look of nervous apprehension and something like hope, Logan with a contemplative air.

Before she could decipher the situation further, the doors slid open and they were moving as a unit down the hallway. To Remy’s surprise, they had gone even further into the sublevels than he realized; not recognizing anything around him from his earlier ‘visit' to the underground tunnels. His only conclusion was that this particular level was below the one where the doctor’s lab resided. As they reached the end of the hall, Logan keyed some number sequence into a locking mechanism on the wall. The doors opened to reveal a humungous underground hangar bay disappearing off into the half-light in two directions. Remy just stood and stared in wonder, his mouth agape at the immense construction.

Sensing his confusion, Logan spoke up. “Cool, huh? This is our own little airport. We have several flying craft that we keep down here to transport us wherever we need to go. Most only carry a small crew and use that runway there…” he pointed off to the wide tunnel leading away from them to the right, Remy’s eyes following the long line of white lights that marked the path of the runway. “…to take off. At the end of that stretch is a drop-off, a sheer cliff leading down to that lake where we….” Further explanations were interrupted by a loud sucking sound from across the bay to the left, as pressure was equalized and the door to a magnificent piece of aeronautical engineering opened. “But this…this is my baby.” Logan said with pride as he gestured towards the modified Blackbird. The aircraft was beautiful as far as Remy was concerned; sleek in design and smooth in texture with skin as black as night. From the angle of the plane though, Remy couldn’t quite figure out how it arrived. There wasn’t enough room for it to turn, despite the size of the cavern, yet it faced in the direction of the cliff exit Logan pointed out earlier.

“How you get dis t’ing in here?” Remy questioned, his thief instincts telling him there was another entrance he had not yet discovered.

Logan smiled. “Well now, that’s a good question.” A gleam of amusement sparkled in his eye as he looked up at the boy. Slowly he turned his gaze towards the ceiling above the craft, Remy’s eyes following his. “That, Cajun, is the underside of the basketball court.” He pointed out. Remy squinted and could just make out the outlines of the entrance. He whistled in appreciation.

******

Cyclops exited the plane and immediately spotted the others, including an unexpected guest. Frowning, he made his way over to the trio and stepped directly in front of Remy. Without taking his eyes off the red orbs in front of him, he greeted his fellow team mates. “Logan, Ororo. I trust nothing went wrong while we were away. And you might be?” he added, not giving his fellow team mates time to answer.

Logan moved between the two, his instinct to protect the boy as he glared up at the team leader. “This is Remy. He’s been with us a little while and knows about some of our ‘side activities’. So cut him some slack.”

Logan’s left eye muscles twitched and his brow furrowed deeply as he fixed the commander with an aggressive look, causing Scott’s jaw to clench in reply. Remy looked between the two nervously. It wasn’t quite the welcome he had expected from the rest of team. They continued their glare-off for almost a minute until the voice of reason stepped up beside her husband. “Scott, dear, don’t be rude to our guest.” She smiled warmly at the auburn haired mutant and stuck out her hand. “My name’s Jean and this is my husband Scott. He really isn’t all that bad.”

“Hey!” Scott exclaimed, Jean’s words breaking his concentration.

“Enchanté, chere.” Remy replied smoothly as he grasped the hand and brought it to his mouth for a quick kiss on the knuckles. As pretty as she was, it was obvious to him from the bulge in her stomach that she was the pregnant friend Ororo had spoken of.

From behind, two more team members approached, bickering amongst themselves. One was a dark-haired woman of delicious proportions, carrying herself in a confident manner. Beside her was a tall, blonde mutant with beautiful white wings laying gracefully along his back. He looked like a supermodel in a magazine as far as Remy was concerned. As they drew closer, he could make out the tail end of their conversation as the woman barked in exasperation. “Look, luv. That’s not the way it works, right? If some bloke walked up to me an’ said that, He’d get a right good seein’ too an’ have a bloody big headache by the time my blade was through with ‘im.”

Warren sighed and looked up at the group before him, casting only a cursory glance at the newcomer. He had been here long enough to no longer be surprised when a new face arrived. “Well, Logan. I see the place is still standing. Tell me, will you regale us with tales of home improvement adventures you and Storm had while we were away eating caviar with the bigwigs?” he drawled in a bored tone.

Betsy elbowed him while Scott rolled his eyes behind his visor. From behind the group, Remy’s own eyes widened slightly at the approach of a large, blue-furred mammal. It was one thing to read the files of these X-men, it was quite another to see them in real life. “Really, Worthington, your finesse with words never ceases to amaze me.”

Logan shrugged, ignoring the winged mutant in favor of the doctor. “Bird boy here’s under the impression that I give a damn.”

Warren sniffed. But before he could retort, three other figures exited the plane.

“LOGAN!!”

“WOLVIE!!”

Two high-pitched, feminine squeals assaulted the feral’s ears, causing him to uncharacteristically flinch. Remy chuckled as two young ladies plowed into the man, nearly knocking him over. Both were quite beautiful in their own way, one with red hair and a unique white stripe down one side, the other with jet black hair and the oddest pink sunshades atop her head.

“Alright stripes, short stuff, that’s enough.” Logan growled affectionately as he half-heartedly attempted to push the women away from him. Really, did they have to make such a scene in front of the new guy?

“We missed ya, sugah.” Rogue smirked and then noticed the stranger standing slightly behind and to the side of the feral. “Who’s this?” she asked sweetly, surreptitiously letting her eyes roam the scrumptious form of the newcomer.

Remy stepped forward then, holding out his hand to the southern belle. “My name’s…”

“This is Remy LeBeau,” Logan interjected, addressing the whole group. He started pointing to the different team members and naming them off in introduction.

Warren’s full attention turned to the boy, startled momentarily by the piercing red orbs he had not noticed before. “LeBeau? So, are you French?”

“Non, I...”

“He’s from Cajun country, Louisiana.” Again Logan interrupted, his tone of voice tinged with enthusiasm, like a child showing off a new toy. Jean’s lips closed in on themselves as she stifled a giggle. It was nice to once again see this side of the man she once considered a potential mate, though she was surprised he was acting this way over another male.

Remy glanced at the feral, bemused and a little embarrassed, as he added to the statement. “Oui. N’awlins.”

Having walked up last behind Jubilee and Rogue, Bobby stuck his hand out to shake with the other. “Oh cool! I’ve never been there. If you ever go back to visit, I wouldn’t mind tagging along for a tour.” His smile faded at the flash of sadness that flittered across the other mutant’s face for a moment. But there was no chance to retract the statement or apologize for offense as his feathered friend immediately took charge of the conversation.

“New Orleans?” Warren questioned, still searching his exotic features. Something about those eyes was familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Forehead creasing in thought as he tried to place the face, he asked “Have we met before? You seem awfully familiar to me.”

Remy inwardly cringed. Did Worthington recognize him somehow? Perhaps the man knew his adopted father, or knew of the guild? If that was the case, there might be trouble since one of his first assignments in training to be a guild member was to hack into the bank accounts of prominent figures. Surely the billionaire didn’t miss the several hundred thousands of dollars that were unknowingly contributed to various animal and children welfare groups from an obscure offshore account. The playboy was too rich for words and definitely could afford it; arrogant bastard that he was. “Non. T’ink I’d remember someone wit’ wings.” Remy grinned disarmingly, clamping tight on his shields and charm power in the presence of two telepaths. If they sensed something, they didn’t act as though anything were different.

Betsy smiled back, but her curiosity was piqued. Not only did her lover seem to recognize this new, admittedly fetching face in front of her, but she couldn’t get any sort of read on him at all. It was as if he wasn’t there; his thoughts like a black void. / _Interesting._ / She mused.

“Right, well if we are done with introductions, I think the kitchen is calling your name, love.” Scott turned to his pregnant wife and reached down to grasp her hand, gently tugging her behind him as he headed away from the group towards the elevator leading to the living quarters above. “Remember, you are eating for three.”

Playfully swatting his arm, Jean let herself be dragged away. “I’m not an invalid.” she sighed, leading everyone to believe this was a rather old and worn argument between the two.

Rogue took that as her cue to latch onto the Cajun’s arm, as she proceeded to ask him more questions. “A fellow southerner, eh? That’ll be great. Now maybe we can have a little spice in our meals. The others round here just like it bland.” She made a face of disgust, sticking out her tongue and squinting her eyes for emphasis as she shuddered. “So, can ya cook any Cajun dishes, sugah?”

Logan watched the group as they walked away, his eyes tracking the young man as Rogue tugged him along. Jubilee was smirking, a knowing look in her eye and the gum popping in her mouth as she chewed it with gusto, watching the older mutant stare longingly after tall, dark and gorgeous. She waited until the others were out of earshot, before she addressed the man. “Kuso, Wolvie, hentai much?”

Logan scowled at her. “Shaddap! Who the hell taught ya to cuss in Japanese anyway?”

An amused grin split her face. “Well duh, Wolvie. You did. Besides, you forget what a manga freak I am? Besides you, that pretty bishonen that just walked outta here is a yaoi fangirl’s wet dream.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed and defensive that his attraction to the Cajun was that obvious – even to a teenage girl - he gritted his teeth and growled, the words coming from his throat like a bark. “Yer not too old to throw over my knee girlie. When’d ya get such a mouth? Think ya need to have it washed out with soap.”

The grin left her face as her eyes widened at the threat momentarily, before remembering exactly who she was dealing with. Rolling her eyes in an exaggerated motion, she blew a big bubble with the wad in her mouth before answering. “Whatever.” She turned her back to him and started heading towards the elevator. “Gonna go get my grub on. Toodles.” Two fingers came together and pointed away from her sharply with a quick flick of the wrist in a mock salute, as she waved him goodbye.

Logan simply stared at her retreating form for a minute. Finally, he snorted and turned to head after the others, muttering all the way. “Damn kids.”

********

The dinner had been a stressful affair. Questions bombarded him from all sides and he was hard pressed to answer some of them, needing to outright lie in some cases, while maintaining his shields in the face of all the telepaths at the table. It was overwhelming to say the least, his steadily growing powers making the task difficult and strained. He had felt the probe of the British beauty, managing to keep her out with little effort. Thankfully, he knew from recent experience that the Professor was not one to force his way into someone’s mind needlessly, even after the first incident when Remy lost control and began to charge the Danger Room. It appeared that the pregnant pupil, who followed closely in the path of her mentor, was abiding by that same principle. Despite the relief he felt of that piece of knowledge, it was still a daunting struggle to rein in the power. Again, he considered the wisdom of his master’s decision to remove the blocks and had to stifle a shudder.

The suspicious and seemingly hostile attitude of the playboy hadn’t made the situation any easier. Remy was more than a little nervous with some of the personal questions the man was asking him. It was like the winged mutant was trying to piece together a puzzle of some sort, though Remy was hard-pressed to understand. He didn’t recall once ever meeting the man, and only knew of the billionaire by reputation.

Various comments on the meal ranged from elated to hesitantly respectful in a critical way. The highly cultured Worthington and his dark-haired beauty sniffed in disinterest the most, accustomed as they were to more refined delicacies. Rogue simply put them both in their place when she piped up in defense. “Oh don’t get y’alls panties in a wad. I like a little twang in my sauce.” Remy had to chuckle at that. Logan, too, was quick to leap to his defense, cutting off questions with a scowl, barking for people to mind their own damn business.

In the end, Remy made his escape to the back porch, lighting up a cigarette and drawing a much needed hit into his lungs to calm his frayed nerves. Periodically, he could hear voices raised in merriment or argument inside, the clanking of dishes being cleared and cleaned from the table. Feelings of déjà vu fell over him as the sounds brought back memories of another time when family gathered for the evening meal. This assignment was stirring up too many feelings in him; feelings that he wanted to grab onto and never let go, feelings he wanted to escape. So he tuned out the sounds and concentrated on his goal. He would need to integrate completely with this group if he stood a snowflake’s chance in hell of getting those files that the boss wanted so badly, a task easier said than done if he couldn’t learn to separate work from his personal desires.

He was half-way through the stick when he sensed another body just behind him. The one that Logan had introduced as Cyclops came to stand beside his chair, staring out at the open expanse of yard beyond the porch. “You know, that really is a bad habit.” He didn’t turn to look at Remy, and the Cajun in return watched the trees in the distance sway with the gentle cool breeze. The days were getting shorter as the autumn season slowly rolled into winter.

Remy flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette as he snuggled into his coat, one arm wrapped around his waist and his crossed ankles resting comfortably on the railing. “Maybe. Mas, it don’ affect me none. My powers burn up de bad stuff soon as I suck it in.”

A soft snort met Remy’s ears, as he watched the team leader lean forward on the railing from the corner of his eye. “Well, isn’t that a handy talent.”

Remy frowned. Was he being insulted? Shrugging, he responded casually. “Could be worse. Guess it better dan always having to wear special glasses so’s not'ing I look at gets sliced in two.”

It was Scott’s turn to frown, feeling not only the verbal slap from the Cajun, but a mental one from his wife as well. He sighed, irritated at himself for starting off on the wrong foot with the newcomer.

Hearing the sigh, Remy rubbed his temple. The response he’d given wasn’t exactly the best way to make his way into the man’s good graces. “Sorry, homme.”

“No, I’m the one that should apologize.” Turning his back to the railing, he leaned on it as a makeshift chair, finally facing the young mutant sitting beside him. “Let’s try again, ok?”

Briefly glancing at the other mutant and giving his body the once over, Remy couldn’t help but admire the figure beside him. All of the X-men thus far had proven to be quite the desirable examples of human flesh and physique. It was no wonder that the boss and his master were so interested in their genetic makeup. Inhaling another lungful of soothing nicotine, he held it for a moment before laying back against the headrest of his chair and releasing the smoke into the crisp fresh air. “Sounds bon.”

“Why did you come here?’

Blunt, to the point, and expected. Remy scratched the bridge of his nose with the hand holding the cigarette before answering. “Need to learn how to control my powers. It’s as simple as dat.”

“Really? I wonder if anything is ever as simple as that.” But he didn’t elaborate. They kept each other’s company in silence for a while, neither making an effort to communicate any more than was necessary. Finally, Scott straightened and prepared to make his way back into the house. “Logan says you are aware of our special interests and desires. You wish to be a part of that?”

“Oui.”

Scott proceeded towards the door, but paused with his hand on the knob, his voice commanding. “You’ll start training with the team immediately, then. Once I feel you’re ready, you can come out on missions with us. If I don’t feel you’re working out, you’ll be off the team and I’ll have one of the telepaths block your memories of our activities prior to releasing you from this school. Understood?”

Remy turned to him with a sardonic grin. “Sounds peachy. Can’t wait.” With that, the team leader disappeared into the house, leaving Remy to turn his disturbed gaze back towards the distant woods. “Just peachy.” He muttered to himself.

End ch 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> kuso = damn or shit  
> hentai = pervert, perverted  
> bishonen = pretty boy  
> bon = good


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes, warnings, and disclaimers in chapter one. 
> 
> Warnings #2: I’m not a medical type person. So if you are a medical type person, or you are familiar with procedures/processes that are discussed in this chap....and you think "well that's not right" as you read this, just remember it's AU. Like a B grade horror movie with more plot holes than a sieve, just go with the flow *grin* 
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic 
> 
> Words between { } in this chapter represent the character speaking in Russian

It was past midnight and the house was completely devoid of activity, all the inhabitants long since retired for the evening. It hadn’t taken much; the length of the trip, coupled with the excitement over the newcomer, as well as the delectable dinner had all conspired to exhaust even the youngest member of the team. Remy had made his escape to his room and sat on the windowsill reflecting on the earlier events of the evening.

The good doctor had found Remy quietly taking the evening air on the porch and coaxed him back into the living room for drinks and recreation with the rest of the troupe before ordering him to come down to the lab the next evening for blood work and a physical. The large mammalian mutant failed to notice the utter look of horror that quickly passed over the Cajun’s features; too busy rambling on about the thrill of analyzing a new mutant power. Apparently, the closest thing they had seen so far to a kinetic energy manipulator was the team leader with his laser-beam eyes, and the bubble-gum blowing teenager that shot fireworks from her fingertips. And when Bobby had asked exactly what kind of kinetic energy manipulation their new member possessed, it was Logan who quickly answered. “Kid can blow shit up.”

Remy had to smirk at the recollection. He was touched that the older man had spoken up for him several times, staying by his side and deflecting awkward questions. There was strength there that Remy was able to draw on in the wake of all the emotions from the group. The feelings ranged from wariness coming from the team leader, to intense fascination, lust and jealousy coming from some of the others. He might have even laughed at it all, if his shields weren’t taking such a beating. Sitting on the windowsill with his shoulder and hip touching the cool, glass pane, Remy stared out into the darkness and sighed. There were now three telepaths in the house, and he would have to keep a constant vigil on his shields, especially with the British beauty; she was too curious for her own good. In addition, the difficulty factor in accessing a computer terminal that would allow him to copy the research materials his boss demanded had increased ten-fold. He closed his eyes and gently bumped the side of his head against the frame of the window.

“Damn telepat’s just like cockroaches, all over de place.” Deep, healing sleep would be just a memory for him for the foreseeable future. Had the Master calculated that into the equation when he removed Remy’s blocks? Probably not, the selfish bastard. The man wore blinders when it came to the expense and pain of others. All that mattered was the end result and how it benefited some grand master plan.

Remy rubbed his temple with one hand, wishing once again that he had never met the man. Though sometimes, he wondered if he had even had a choice in meeting him. The Master seemed to know him well when they first met, and Remy wondered if he had been tracking him all along, ready to take what he wanted. _/But then, ain’t it more entertaining to give a slave de illusion of choice?/_ Remy pondered. A light knock at his door brought Remy from his musings. Before he had the opportunity to question who was there, the person spoke through the wood and Remy’s heart almost stopped.

“Hey kid, it’s Logan. Can I come in?”

The Cajun blinked at the door, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to push sound through his throat. “Uh…yeh.” He rose from his perch as soon as the door opened and simply stared at the man a few feet away.

“Hey.” Logan ventured, feeling the sudden tension in the room. He grinned at the boy, displaying a mouthful of beautiful straight teeth and canines that practically glowed in the dark. Remy wondered if that was part of his healing factor – to have perfect teeth that never stained. What would it be like to never have a toothache, to never worry about cavities or gum disease or any of the other ailments of the mouth?

Returning the smile, his own slightly crooked teeth giving his grin a lopsided effect, Remy put his hands in his jeans pocket. “Hey yourself.” Not wanting to appear nervous despite the fact that his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest, Remy leaned back casually against the window frame with one ankle crossed over the other. “To what do I owe de honor of dis visit?”

Mimicking the Cajun’s pose, Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just wanted to make sure yer ok. Meeting some of the team for the first time can be a bit overwhelming, especially when they ask a thousand and one questions.”

Remy waved it off. “Didn’ bodder me homme.” _/cause you was dere to give me strength/_ he finished to himself.

“Well that’s good, I guess.” Logan nodded, then he cocked his head to one side and analyzed the boy for a moment, causing Remy to unconsciously squirm under the gaze. Suppressing the smirk that wanted to break out, Logan made to clear his throat before asking the next question. “I noticed you were….well, ya seemed kinda….I dunno, worried maybe? About seeing the doc later. I just wanted to put yer mind at ease about that. He’s a good guy. Don’t let his bulk scare ya none.”

One slender auburn brow arched as Remy crossed his own arms over his chest. “Lemme ask you somet’ing, Logan. Hank be a doctor, non?”

“Yeh.” Logan answered, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“And he be a scientist too, oui?”

Frowning, Logan wasn’t exactly sure where Remy was going with the line of questioning. “Well, yeh he’s that, too.”

Remy stared at the man expectantly, but sighed when he realized there was no way Logan could understand how he felt about that. “Just…been ‘round dat type before. Hard to trust a man who likes to experiment and knows his way ‘round de human body.” The Cajun turned his head, staring hard at the floor but obviously seeing something else.

Anger rose up in the feral, an unexpected feeling of protectiveness, though Logan wasn’t sure why. He could only speculate at what the boy had been around in the past. “Well, Hank ain’t that way. Yeh he likes to experiment, but he swears by that damn doctor oath to do no harm.”   
  
Slumping his shoulders a little - either in defeat or defensiveness, Logan wasn’t sure - Remy sighed. “If you say so Logan, den I…” he swallowed hard, the difficulty of the next words making his tongue immobile. “….I trust you.”

Those three words nearly knocked Logan over; his knees weakened realizing the courage the boy had summoned to say them. He was in front of the boy before his mind even registered what he was doing, cupping the Cajun’s face in both hands. “Ya can, Remy. Trust me. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but…there’s a connection. And I can’t explain it. Hell, don’t wanna explain it. Just…” Overwhelmed and unable to say what he was feeling, he put the words into action and brought the boy’s head down, his lips meeting fiercely with those of the taller mutant. It was possessive and challenging, nothing weak about it. And Remy let it take him over, surrendering to the words made tangible. But before it could deepen and move into the next stage, Logan was pushing back and breaking the kiss. “I better go.” Logan panted, struggling with control over his bodily desires. Turning on his heels, the feral made it as far as the doorway, before pausing to glance over his shoulder at the boy. “Do ya want me to come with ya later?” At the smirk he received from the Cajun, he chuckled and clarified. “To Hank’s office?”

Remy thought about that for a moment. As much as he wanted the man there, feeling somehow safer in the feral’s presence, he couldn’t afford to be distracted. And he most certainly couldn’t afford to have the man’s keen eyesight watching his every move. “Non. T’anks.” Logan looked like he was about to say something else, but then he shook his head and closed the door behind him, leaving the Cajun to his own thoughts. Remy lost the battle with gravity and slumped to the floor. “Dieu, I hate dis.” He whispered.

****

The day passed uneventfully, most of the staff keeping to themselves as their previous week’s activities caught up with them. Nothing could suck the life energy from a person faster than having to play politics with a bunch of government officials. As evening approached, Remy knew he could not put his obligation off any longer and proceeded to make his way down to the medical lab in the sub-level directly under the main building. A chill made its way along his spine; he felt like he was being watched. In retrospect, he imagined he probably was being monitored at least telepathically. _/Guess dey don’t want me to get lost/_ Remy mused. His feet seemed to grow heavier, each step like wading through thick mud, as he approached the door. As before, the doors swished open and he found himself standing in the doorway staring at all the medical instruments, unable to coax his muscles to move any further into the room. It was too sterile, full of equipment that he was intimately familiar with. The massive figure in the corner, wearing a white lab coat, completed the picture. For a moment, Remy was mentally transported to another place altogether. It took every ounce of will power not to turn and run away.

Hank had been busy sorting through some tubules, jotting down notes on a pad, when he heard the doors and turned to face the frozen boy. There was a look of terror on the Cajun’s face that Hank couldn’t understand. He was almost certain he could actually feel fear coming from the young man. But that couldn’t be right – he decided it was his own over-tired mind creating such illusions. With a wide grin firmly in place, he called out to the other. “Well, come in and welcome to my humble abode.”

The sound of the doctor’s voice seemed to remind Remy of where he truly was, spurring his body into action of its own accord. When he came to stand directly in front of the man the others called Beast, Remy could see just how large the feral was. As tall as the Cajun was, Hank easily towered over him. And if the man were to wrap his bulky arms around the younger mutant, there was no doubt in Remy’s mind that his own body would disappear from view amongst blue fur. But those blue arms did not envelope him, much to his relief. Rather, a large paw-like hand was placed gently on his shoulder as the doctor gave him a comforting squeeze. “Now, Remy, I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I know I look like something out of a monster movie, but I assure you I’m no monster.” The words were said in jest, an attempt to lighten the sudden tension of the younger mutant, but to Remy, they were more than that. With his shields slightly lowered, he could feel the sincerity of the larger mutant and he visibly relaxed under the doctor’s careful gaze.

Now that the younger man seemed more at ease, Hank smiled warmly, his ears dropping slightly. “If you would please hop onto the bed, we can begin.” He turned and walked toward one cabinet, rummaging through it for a few items as he continued to speak over his shoulder. “Also, if you would be so kind as to remove your shirt.”

Fingers fumbled with buttons for a moment before the shirt was discarded to the side, the cool air of the lab causing Remy’s skin to prickle with tiny bumps. When Hank turned back and approached the boy, he registered a few faint scars. They were thin straight lines lighter in color than the rest of Remy’s skin, the precision and placement of which gave the doctor pause. Had the boy had several surgeries?

“Oui, mas it not somet’ing Remy wanna talk ‘bout.”

Hank blinked at the Cajun. Had he asked his question out loud? “Oh, well, of course it would help if you were to give me a proper medical history. But, you do have a right to privacy. I only ask that you divulge any pertinent information that may affect your ability to interact and work effectively with the team. I must look out for not only you, but all my patients. Understood?” At the nod he received, he proceeded to prepare the blood collection kit. Tying a rubber band around the younger mutant’s bicep, Hank felt for the pulse point. “Squeeze your hand.” Satisfied that he had located the area to stick, the doctor cleaned the patch of skin with an alcohol pad and brought the needle to rest directly above the inside of the elbow. “Now this will only sting for a moment.” He watched the young man blanche and turn his head away as the needle entered the skin. With expert handling, the artery was struck on the first try and blood flowed freely into the collection tube. “See? That wasn’t so bad. I didn’t realize you were afraid of needles.”

Remy grimaced, turning to look down at the entry point as he watched the tube fill with precious red liquid. “Not afraid of needles. Afraid of what dey might be used for.”

There was really nothing for Hank to say to that. He wasn’t about to lie to the boy and make up excuses when it was obvious the Cajun had been around medical facilities in the past. Sometimes the needle could bring unbearable pain. After collecting three vials, he removed the syringe and placed a piece of cotton over the small wound, bending Remy’s arm to hold the pressure there. Choosing to change the topic, the doctor brought his stethoscope out of his pocket. “Ok, now take a few deep breaths.” With each inhalation, thick steady fingers moved the bell over various sections of the chest, listening to any abnormal echoes. “Sounds fine.” Bringing those same fingers up, he proceeded to push in on the Cajun’s neck, feeling for bumps or irregularities. When he finished his examination, he patted Remy’s knee. “So far so good. Now if you would be so kind as to remove the rest of your clothes and put this gown on. The opening towards the back.”

Remy stared at the piece of cloth with trepidation, but dutifully jumped down and proceeded to strip completely. Hank made a few notes before reaching to grab some over-sized plastic gloves. The dull smack of the rubber against his fur as he pulled on the gloves caused Remy to snap his eyes towards the doctor. “What dat for?” he asked warily.

Pausing, Hank peered at Remy over the rim of his glasses. “I need to give you a prostate exam. You have had your prostate examined before, haven’t you?”

Remy snorted. “Not in de medical sense.” He glanced at Hank’s hands, biting his lip for a moment before bending over the edge of the bed.

Bushy blue brows drew together in confusion, not quite catching the joke. With a shrug, the doctor pulled a rolling stool over and sat down, moving aside the garment covering the boy’s back. “Now, I realize that my fingers are larger than most doctors, so I’ll only be using my pinky. And I’ll try to minimize the discomfort as much as possible.” He frowned at the scars scattered in patterns along his back and hips. Whereas the ones on the front looked to be made by a surgeon’s knife, these appeared jagged and uneven, as if made by some animal’s teeth or claws. As he parted Remy’s cheeks and slowly inserted a lubricated finger, his lips thinned in anger at the feel of more scarring. Apparently, the tender tissue had been torn at some point in the boy’s life; probably more than once. Suddenly, the meaning behind the earlier flippant remark dawned on him. He heard the Cajun grunt at the intrusion, tensing slight before relaxing. Hank wondered at the ease with which the younger mutant was able to force his sphincter muscle to loosen at the intrusion. It told a story to the doctor that had him questioning how much of that was learned by force. He doubted very much that he would be able to obtain any kind of answer from the boy, so he simply finished the exam as quickly and efficiently as possible, then made appropriate notes in the chart. “Ok, you may get dressed now. We’re done.”

Grateful, Remy hastily cleaned himself with some tissues that had been provided and slipped back into his clothes. He watched the doctor carefully, noting exactly how the tubes were labeled and where the man was storing them. “What you gonna do wit’ my blood, hehn? I don’ use drugs or not’ing.”

The question brought a welcome distraction to the circles that Hank’s mind was running in regards to the scars. The smile was back in place as he turned towards the younger man. “Well, in the next day or so, we’ll ship this out to a lab we use to analyze it. In layman’s terms, we’ll have them break it down for us to see what you’re made of in a chemical sense. With the information they provide, we’ll hopefully be able to help you with your growing powers, maybe even predict any future mutations.” Excitement laced the doctor’s words as he turned to open a small refrigerator in a far corner of the room.

“How long will dat take?”

Frowning for a moment, the doctor paused in his motions. “Well, unfortunately, because of our unique genetic makeup, we are unable to use a standard lab. There is really only one place that has the means to accomplish the research when it comes to decoding mutant DNA. Because of this, the researchers at Muir Island are overwhelmed in their volume of work. Therefore, it will most likely be several weeks, possibly a few months, before we have anything definitive.” He glanced back at the boy. “But not to worry, we can still teach you different controlling techniques and such in the meantime. And, as you can see, I am not exactly incapable of doing a little bit of my own research here.” One large paw-like hand casually waved at the equipment around the room.

Remy watched him place the vials of blood into a holding rack on the top shelf, then quickly buttoned his shirt and stepped towards the door. “We finished now? Can I go?” He turned and took several steps to leave the room, but hesitated as he heard the doctor chuckle behind him.

“I haven’t had a patient so anxious to leave my company since I first tended Wolverine.” Hank grinned at the retreating figure.

“Wolverine?” Remy shifted to face the doctor again, momentarily forgetting his intention to flee as quickly as possible. “Dat’s Logan, right? What you mean?”

Removing his glasses, he pulled a cloth from his upper pocket and proceeded to clean the lenses. Smile firmly in place, he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, eyes glazed slightly out of focus as Hank recalled the memories. “Ah yes, Logan. He and you are very much alike in regards to medical facilities. You see, I am a doctor. But I am also a scientist.” Shifting that gaze back towards the Cajun, Hank continued. “Let’s just say that our Canadian friend has a problem with those two categories.” The look on Hank’s face darkened for a moment, eyes turning towards the ground.

The air seemed to be sucked out of Remy as he heard the words falling from the man’s mouth. So it seemed that Logan might have understood why Remy didn’t care for visiting the lab, after all. “What happened to him?”

The good doctor’s eyes snapped back to the Cajun as he realized he had probably said too much. “That, my young friend, is not my story to tell. Now go on before I think of some other tests I’d like to run on you.” He smiled warmly to lessen the sting of the dismissal.

Remy didn’t need to be told twice. Grinning in return, he saluted the blue-furred mutant before turning on his heels and exiting. He decided to skip eating with the rest of the group, stopping briefly by the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before retreating to his room. He needed to plan for later tonight.

******

After everyone had retired for the evening and the mansion was once again quiet, Remy slipped out of his room and ghosted down the hall. His shields were slightly lowered to make sure he didn’t encounter anyone on a midnight kitchen run. Food was hastily bagged before he headed to the garage. Patting the side of one pocket, he felt the empty vials he had snatched earlier when the doctor had his back turned. Remy smirked. It wasn’t so much that he was arrogant when it came to his abilities as a thief – he was just that good. There was no doubt in his mind that had circumstances been different, he would have eventually led the Guild, even surpassing his father in skill. His smile faltered briefly as he thought of the man who had been his adopted father, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

The ride to the city, as usual, took some time. There would be no calling his boss this evening, and he wondered momentarily if he would pay for that later. It didn’t matter. The Master of Magnetism had to understand the complexity of this assignment. It was going to take time to get the information, no matter how talented a thief he was.

Navigating the tunnels with an ease born of practice, it wasn’t long before he was greeting his friend Kale and handing over the food stuffs. “Dimitri here?”

“Yes, Remy. He’s waiting for you at the far end of the encampment.” Kale said, a look of concern in his eyes. “I don’t want the children to see.”

Remy smiled, patting the older man’s shoulder before making his way to the back of the cavern, towards one of the tunnel offshoots. The light faded some, shadows lengthening with the dark as he approached the tunnel opening, but Remy could see well enough. Despite his extraordinary night vision, however, he didn’t spot the mutant he sought. “Dimitri? You be dere?”

“{Yes}” A slender, androgynous form slinked from the shadows to Remy’s left. The soft, silky voice flowed over him like warm water. “{I am here}”

“Dimitri…” Remy breathed, the other man’s scent intoxicating. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat before continuing. “Ah, can you please speak English? You know I don’t understand when you talking in your native tongue.”

A slight lifting of plump, luscious lips in a seductive smile was the only indication that the other mutant heard him. “Of course. Better?” His movements were fluid, gliding towards the Cajun with an almost hypnotic effect. Remy had only been around the Russian a couple of times before, always unnerved by the other man’s presence. He recognized the body language of the other mutant, having used the same himself, and the reflection of his own actions against him left a sour taste in his mouth. They were alike in their means. But, whereas Remy had looks that were pleasing to the eye in a masculine way, Dimitri’s feminine features left some guessing. “What can I do for you?”

“Kale explain what I need?” Remy asked, taking an unconscious step back from the hand that reached up to skim across his collar bone.

Hair so blond it was nearly white spilled over the front of the slender mutant’s shoulder as he nodded his head. “And what will you do for me?” The seductive purr made Remy swallow hard. The man was very good at luring in his prey.

Fortunately, Remy was well versed in the game himself and was able to resist. Instead, he decided to play a little himself as he let his charm ooze out, stepping forward and causing the other man to retreat against the wall of the tunnel. Remy slapped his hands against the concrete on both sides of Dimitri’s head and leaned in close, his breath whispering across the other’s lips as he spoke. “What do you want?”

Dimitri shuddered, Remy’s effect on him just as potent. “You know what I want.” He hissed, unable to concentrate with the Cajun so close to him. Remy stared into the other’s eyes for a moment; red on black orbs drinking in golden, before he pushed away. He knew what the other wanted, and it disgusted him. “Fine, but only a little.”

The two sat facing each other, both rolling up their sleeves. “You first.” Remy motioned as he held out his arm towards the Russian. Dimitri’s excitement could be felt even through his shields and Remy struggled to keep the sneer off of his face. After grabbing the Cajun’s arm and bringing it to his mouth, Dimitri kissed the wrist reverently for a moment before two sharp, pointed canines extended and plunged deep into the tissue of his forearm. The Russian sucked with fervor, golden orbs rolling backwards as his eyes closed in pure delight. The mutant was energy based, wielding kinetic charges like Remy, but he was also a blood drinker. He needed the plasma in the blood like a narcotic, the effect on him a natural high. Remy winced at the pain, counting slowly to twenty before he began pushing at the other mutant. When Dimitri didn’t release his hold, Remy grabbed at the white blonde hair and pulled the other mutant’s head back. “Dat’s enough, Dimitri.”

The Russian finally relinquished and gasped in delight. Licking his lips slowly, he smiled ferally at the Cajun, his teeth stained red. “You taste divine, Remy.” He purred.

Remy yanked his arm from the other man’s grasp and hastily rolled down his sleeve. He didn’t worry about the wound; Dimitri’s saliva had healing properties. It was this reason primarily that Kale allowed him to stay with the clan. This time, Remy couldn’t keep the look of disgust from his face. “Your turn.” Dimitri demurely presented his arm, eyes twinkling as he continued to gaze at Remy’s face. He was already high, feeling the effects of the plasma he had absorbed. Remy wasted no time sticking the artery and filling several vials with blood. When he finished, Remy watched as Dimitri brought his own arm up and licked the wound closed, the Russian’s eyes again closing in bliss. Remy stood quickly, swaying for a moment from the sudden change in position and the slight loss of blood. He wanted to be away from the other man. “T’anks, homme.”

As Remy retreated, he heard the Russian humming. “Anytime Remy, the pleasure was all mine.”

Kale was waiting at the entrance to the township. Noting the Cajun’s pale skin, Kale sighed. Remy grimaced at the sight of his friend, but quickly donned a mask designed to comfort. “It fine, Kale. Needed dis.” He patted the contents of his pocket as he made to step past the leader of the Morlocks.

Kale grabbed his elbow to halt him. “If there’s something going on Remy, you know we will...”

“Non, Kale. It not’ing for you to be concerned ‘bout.” Remy smiled at his friend, warmed by the gesture the man was about to make. “Remy not wort’ you getting involved.”

He wasn’t sure if the look on Kale’s face was one of anger or determination. “You are worth more than you think, Remy. A lot more. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

A placating smile in place, Remy didn’t really believe the man, but it was nice to hear the words. “You a good man, Kale. Don’t let anyone tell YOU differently.” He chuckled and patted the man’s shoulder one last time before departing. All he wanted to do now was return to the mansion, swap the viles and try to get a little sleep.

End ch 18


	19. Chapter 19

Ch 19

Time passed and Remy was no closer to completing his mission, the success of swapping his blood several weeks prior notwithstanding. Despite the team leader’s approval to train with the rest of the group, he had yet to do so. Instead, drills had been conducted solo or with Wolverine, all the while under the watchful eye of Cyclops and the doctor. Remy could only hope that they were suitably impressed with his performances. They had not allowed him into the control booth of the Danger Room, though Remy doubted that he would be able to obtain anything useful in regards to genetic material from the computers there anyway. The most that could be learned, he guessed, would be the fighting styles of the various team members. That, in itself, might be worth something. Remy was thankful that he had not been called back to Hank’s medical bay for more tests or for the ‘discovery’ of his genetic makeup. Briefly, he wondered if they would find anything unusual about the donated blood, but decided not to dwell on it. Remy wasn’t a scientist – had no clue what types of information could be obtained from the blood – but figured that he had a reasonable shot at passing any scrutiny. After all, he and Dimitri were both energy based in their mutant powers. Hopefully, that would be enough.

The weeks flew by faster than Remy realized. The initial bite of winter brought a chill in the air; the loss of leaves on the trees, as they broke from their branches and swirled in the wind to their deaths, marking the passage of time. He spent most of his time with the feral, falling deeper and deeper into uncharted territory in regards to his feelings for the older man. And Remy could sense the Canadian returning those feelings, though they had yet to take things to their ultimate conclusion. His friendship with the wind rider had also grown into a solid pillar of strength. She became the family he no longer had. As for the other team members, he managed to keep them at arm’s length with charm and finesse, winning himself surface feelings of warmth along with those of mistrust. The one that confused him the most was the southerner known as Rogue, one moment she was thrilled to be in his company, doing everything she could to gain his attention, the next she was confused and jealous with a touch of the possessive whenever Remy was in Logan’s company. He wasn’t sure where those emotions were directed, however, as he could tell she had more than a brotherly love for the older man. The firecracker they called Jubilee, chatted him up at all possible opportunities, much to the dismay of the blonde haired team member named Bobby. The winged warrior and his British beauty stayed distant from Remy for the most part, not that Remy had any complaints about that. Periodically, Worthington would ask a personal question or two which Remy would evade and effectively throw back at the man along with a small amount of his charm; anything to keep the man off track. The entrepreneur was still trying to figure out why Remy looked so familiar, something that concerned the Cajun greatly since he had no recollection of meeting the other man at any point in his life. As for the self-proclaimed ninja, she no longer probed at his shields. But, there was still the air of curiosity about her and he would catch her studying him whenever they were together in a room.

Towards the end of the third month in residence with the X-men, Scott had called him to his office. As Remy passed by Xavier’s door, he paused for a moment, feeling a modicum of guilt over his inability to open up to the man. Their last meeting had not gone so well, Xavier expressing his disappointment over the lack of progress. Despite Remy’s assurance that he was doing his best to let the man in, he knew that Xavier was no fool. The Professor did not press the issue, however. Instead, he told the Cajun that there would be no further need for their sessions until Remy felt the time was right to try again. Remy rubbed his temple and proceeded down the hall until he reached the team leader’s door, knocking on the wood and awaiting permission to enter. When Scott acknowledged his presence, he slid into the office, closing the door behind him before moving to sit in the chair facing the massive desk of the man who claimed this space as his own.

“Remy, thank you for coming.” Scott placed his pen beside the papers he had been signing and sat back in his chair to eye the young mutant sitting across from him. “These past few weeks, we have been monitoring your fighting technique in the Danger Room, assessing your skill level before you start training with the team. After conferring with the doctor, we both agree that the time has come to integrate you into the group training sequence. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

Remy nodded and then cleared his throat. “Been ready. T’ink I have somet’ing to offer de group.”

Scott stared at him a moment, hands clasped in his lap and elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “Have you taken the opportunity to learn everyone’s codenames? In the field, we don’t want to use anyone’s real name for anonymity’s sake. I’m sure you understand why that is.”

“Oui on both counts.”

A smile made its way to the team leader’s face, a rare sight that had Remy admiring the curves and lines of classic beauty the man presented. Images of marble statues depicting Roman gods and Greek mythology, that Remy had once seen in his adoptive father’s library, came to mind as he surreptitiously gazed at the other man from behind his dark shades. “Well, then, I think all that’s left is to come up with a codename for you. Any preferences?”

“Gambit” Remy didn’t hesitate.

Scott blinked behind his visor and stayed silent for a moment as he stared at the Cajun. “Like chess, do you?”

“Non, mas I play a mean game of checkers.” Remy chuckled.

Frowning, Scott reached towards his desk and picked up his pen, scribbling something onto one of the papers. Without looking at the Cajun, Scott spoke. “You know…a gambit is a move intended to sacrifice minor pieces in order to obtain an advantageous position.” He stopped writing and held the ends of the pen between the finger tips of both hands, pinning the boy with a deadly serious look. “Is your codename trying to tell me something?”

With a blank face, Remy returned the challenging look. “Dat name was given to me by my pere.”

“As simple as that?” Scott hedged.

“As simple as dat.” Remy bristled; not about to be goaded into revealing any more of his past than absolutely necessary.

Scott tilted his head downwards to stare at the pen as he rolled it over and over between his fingers. “I wonder if anything is ever as simple as that.” He muttered to himself.

What was it with this man? Remy wondered if that was his favorite catch phrase or something. He supposed it made the other mutant a good team leader to question everything; to be sure of the facts for the protection of the group. It didn’t make Remy any less irritated at the clear skepticism in Scott’s tone, especially when he was telling the truth. What could he do to get the other man to loosen up and just accept him? How could he make the other man trust him? There was always the possibility of using his charm to influence Scott, but he didn’t want to risk it when the man was married to a pregnant and hormonal telepath. Besides, it hadn’t taken him long to realize those two were mentally linked – what one experienced was more easily felt and heard by the other, even over some distance. There had to be something he could try. Caught up in his scheming, he missed part of what Scott was saying.

“…orning, then.”

Remy focused on the other man and furrowed his brow. “Eh, sorry homme. Musta drifted off for a moment. Can you say dat last bit again?”

With a sigh of exasperation, Scott repeated himself. “I said that the code name was fine and that you will start training sessions with the team tomorrow morning.” Shuffling his papers a moment, Scott glanced at his watch before turning back to the Cajun. “Now, if you don’t have any questions, I’ve got a mountain load of work to do.”

Prickling at the blunt dismissal, Remy reminded himself that he was here to do a job, not make friends. With a small salute, he casually sauntered from the room, leaving the team leader to his duties.

*******

“Hey Wolfie!” Rogue called out to her favorite feral as he passed by the doors of the community room. “Whatcha doing, sugah? Wanna watch a movie with me?”

Logan paused in his pace and smiled warmly at the girl. “No can do, darlin’. Remy and me got plans tonight.”

Rogue frowned, but quickly caught herself. “Well, what y’all doing?”

“We’re headin’ out to Harry’s. Gonna play some pool and knock back a few beers maybe.” There was a twinkle in Logan’s eye that she didn’t miss. It caused a painful squeeze in her heart and she resisted the urge to grab her chest.

“Maybe I can come with y’all?” she asked hopefully.

Logan's eyes softened. “Awe darlin’, ya know I’d love to have ya come, but ya know the rules. Not til yer twenty one.”

“And he is?” she argued, not able to keep the hurt from her tone.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Logan sighed, his smile turning sad. “Not sure. Thing is, he don’t really know how old he is. Kinda like me.” He shrugged. “Guess in his case it don’t matter how old the body is. He’s seen more in life than most.”

Rogue bit her lower lip, slightly ashamed at the anger she had a moment ago. “Sorry, Logan. I just…I guess I’ve just been missing having ya to myself.” She tried for a smile, but it didn’t really reach her eyes.

He waved her off before leaving the room. “It’s ok, darlin’. I guess maybe I’ve been a little….preoccupied. How ‘bout we catch that movie tomorrow night? You, me, and Jubes.”

“Alright, sugah. It’s a date.” Rogue beamed.

Logan nodded and turned to leave, pausing for a moment as he made a small concession. “Hell, I’ll even watch one of those romance things you two always wanna see.” The look of resigned disgust on his face, a slight sneer to his lips, was priceless and Rogue couldn’t help but laugh as she waved him off.

With a sigh, she flopped back into the couch seat and heard a dark chuckle to her left. She turned to face Warren with a scowl on her face. “What?”

“Oh nothing” the playboy drawled. “Just thinking that our Logan has it pretty bad for the charming newbie.”

“What the hell ya talking about, Warren?” she demanded.

He smirked, pausing to run fingers through his golden locks before turning to look at the southerner. “It’s fairly obvious. Well, obvious to those of us with experience.”

Bristling at the overture to her inexperience, Rogue crossed her arms over her chest and reluctantly asked the question she knew he was waiting to hear. “And what exactly is so obvious?”

There was a glint of amusement as he pinned her with his gaze. “Our little feral is smitten, my dear Rogue.” At the look of disbelief he saw, Warren continued. “Don’t you think it’s strange that he spends all his time with the boy? They are always playing cards, or going out for drinks. Danger room sessions have been mostly the two of them and Logan has taken it upon himself to show Remy around the area. Besides, there’s a sexual tension there that’s just delicious – the stares, the innuendos, the electricity of the ‘accidental’ touches.” Both hands came up and two fingers on each curled to form quotes in the air as he emphasized the last words.

“Shut up. You don’t know what your talking ‘bout.” Rogue was flustered. She had noticed these things, but dismissed it outright. They were both men, weren’t they?

“Tell me Rogue, does it bother you at all that your precious Wolfie doesn’t spend time with you anymore?” He could tell he was beginning to get to her. Her jealousy had been visible to any that cared to look close enough. The boy had been grating on his nerves since day one; the nagging thoughts that he somehow knew the man were eating away at him. Warren had a plan to unleash some of that frustration on the very irritant that caused it. But there was a fine line to walk. She would not help him if she thought for one minute it might anger her precious Wolverine. “Wouldn’t you like to put the newbie in his place?”

She eyed the winged mutant warily. “Just what do you have in mind?”

Warren relaxed back into the cushions, one arm coming to rest casually along the back of the couch. “Nothing bad. Just a little fun with the man. You know, properly break him in and make him part of the team.” Warren shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or the other if the girl wanted to participate.

Rogue chewed her lip, unsure of the suggestion. On the one hand, she didn’t want to hurt Remy. She had actually grown to like him over the last few weeks and was definitely attracted to him. On the other, he had stolen away all of Logan’s attentions and that bothered her more than she was willing to admit to herself. It had always been the two of them, along with Jubilee. But now she and the firecracker were a nuisance – in the way. “Alright, but nothing dangerous. Whadya have in mind?”

Warren’s eyes danced with mischief as he leaned forward and pinned emerald green orbs. “Nothing bad Rogue, I promise. Just a little game I call toss the Cajun.” He smiled at her, the display of perfectly straight teeth meant to ease her with the friendly gesture. Somehow, though, Rogue wasn’t reassured.

End ch 19


	20. Chapter 20

CH 20

“Alright people, listen up.” Scott stood in front of the team with a clipboard, casually gazing over all members to make sure he had their attention. “The purpose of this session is two-fold. First and foremost, we want to build trust between our fliers and the ground-bounders. Secondly, we want to utilize Rogue’s abilities to draw on the powers of her team mates. Should one of us become incapacitated in the field, she can utilize our power to help the team. In essence, she will be our trump card in the field. Rogue...” he turned to face the southerner directly “...the professor wants you to practice some control. You’ve already been briefed?” At her nod of affirmation, he continued. “Good. You will drain Storm’s power, concentrating on blocking out the memories as much as possible. Your goal is to obtain only her mutant abilities, without harm to her, and maintain those abilities as long as possible.”

Storm looked apprehensive and Scott’s eagle-eyes didn’t miss it. “Storm, you’re still OK with this exercise? If it makes you uncomfortable, we can try something else.”

Ororo straightened to her full height, lifting her chin. “That will not be necessary, Cyclops. I agreed, and I will comply.”

Scott nodded solemnly, recognizing the sacrifice she was making for the good of the team and to help a team mate learn control. Turning back to the rest of the group, he waved one hand in Remy’s direction. “Remy will be practicing with us this time. He needs to learn how to work with us, and we need to learn how to integrate his powers. From now on, in the field, you will address him by his codename Gambit.” The clipboard came to rest against Scott’s thigh as he gave everyone one last glance. “If there are no questions, we’ll begin. Jean? Hank?”

Walking over towards the women, Hank adjusted his glasses. “Now my dears, do not be afraid. I will be here to prevent any damage.” He smiled to reassure the southerner.

“Rogue, I want you to concentrate. Remember what the Professor and I taught you. Focus only on Storm’s mutant powers. Actively block her life force and memories.” Jean came to stand perpendicular to the two women as they faced each other. Placing one hand to her temple, and the other to her swollen abdomen, she closed her eyes. “Begin.”

Rogue took a deep, shaky breath and looked fearfully in Storm’s eyes. Ororo smiled warmly and brought one hand up to gently sweep back a lock of Rogue’s hair. “Do not worry, child. I trust you.”

As if that was all the encouragement Rogue needed, she nodded and brought her own naked hand up to cup Ororo’s face. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to drain only the mutant powers. It was part of the learning process in order to ultimately control her powers. She was determined to do her best, not only so she wouldn’t hurt her friend, but also because it was only through control that she would eventually be able to fulfill a dream of hers; to touch another skin to skin. The pull started almost immediately. Sweat broke out on her brow as she concentrated more and more, gritting her teeth as she felt it begin to spiral out of control. Jean unconsciously rubbed her belly in time with the fingers rubbing her temple. Brows furrowed, she reached out telepathically to boost Rogue’s efforts, lending strength to the southerner. For a few minutes, they stood connected by flesh and powers until Ororo began to sway, a moan escaping her throat. It was almost too much for her and it took every ounce of Rogue’s resolve to hold steady. Finally, the memories started to come and despite the fact that Jean had not ordered an end to the coupling, Rogue jerked her hand away with a gasp. Ororo’s knees gave, but Hank was there instantly to hold her up, preventing her from collapsing to the floor. She was slightly dazed but not completely unconscious. 

Jean also staggered backwards, her size beginning to thwart her natural grace and balance. “That…that was well done, Rogue.” She stuttered, needing a moment to reorganize her thoughts after such an expenditure of power. 

Rogue didn’t hear her, concerned eyes focused solely on the weather goddess. “Is she gonna be alright, Hank?”

Hank took a moment to check her pulse, before sweeping his weakened team mate into his arms. “She will be fine after she rests a bit in the observation room. We will take our leave now.” With that, he turned and carried Ororo from the room.

A slender hand squeezed Rogue’s shoulder. “And you? How much of the memories were you able to block?”

Rogue took a moment to process what had been absorbed before turning and smiling at the telepath. “A pretty good bit. I only got some of her memories from the last few days, and they’re kinda fuzzy. Mostly ‘bout the garden and stuff.” Taking another moment to feel the new powers flowing within, Rogue called upon the winds and gently, if not a little clumsily, lifted into the air. “Oh this is cool, y’all. Wish I could fly all the time!”

“Ok, great. Alright everyone, this is how it will work” Scott spoke up from across the room. “Those of you that can take to the air – Iceman, Angel, Rogue – it’ll be your responsibility to assist those that can’t, mainly Gambit, Jubilee, and Psylocke. Wolverine, Jean and I will be in the control room with Hank and Storm. Get ready.” With that, the three senior X-men also left the room and proceeded to the control booth. Once they reached the tower, Scott sat behind a computer console and pushed a few buttons to bring the program to life. Through the microphone, Scott said “Alright, cityscape scenario, standard level two attack drones. Engage.” 

Around the remaining team, the room began to shift and morph into a replica of a city with tall skyscrapers and neighborhoods in varying degrees of prosperity. The area immediately surrounding them looked like something out of a war zone, the ancient brick and concrete buildings collapsed in spots through age and neglect. Clumps of algae and mold clung to the sides of wooden doors and brick walls in alleyways, thriving in damp spots and shadowed corners; roaches and rats skittered to and fro among garbage laden sidewalks. For a moment, Remy’s head was dizzy. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to the holographic room with the life-like scenery. As he had been warned early on, it was only the safety protocols built into the system that kept anyone from being permanently damaged by what they faced in this room; safety protocols that could be turned off, as Logan had pointed out. Darkened alleys and abandoned buildings with rotted out floors posed just as much danger as the drones they would be facing. 

“Ready, sugah?” Remy started as Rogue purred in his ear. Again he had let his guard down as he marveled at the technology behind the Danger Room. 

“Whenever you are, chere.” He gave her a wink over his shoulder, before moving into position and drawing a few cards from his pocket. 

Lasers beamed from a side alley, narrowly missing the winged mutant as Angel took to the sky; Rogue following after as she called the winds to her. The drones came from all sides, firing multiple projectiles at the scattering X-men. Jubilee lowered her shades and sent a burst of fireworks at two of the enemy baring down on her. She popped a bubble of gum and grinned as the unit sputtered and blew apart. She had no time to congratulate herself, however, as another drone shot her from behind. With an “oomphf”, she flew into the nearest wall, scrapping her knees as she landed on the asphalt. 

“PETIT!” Remy shouted and sent a barrage of charged cards towards the machine as it prepared to fire on the teenager again. It exploded into a multitude of pieces and Gambit rushed to her side to help her up. “You alright dere, fille?”

Coughing, she waved him off. “Yeh, it just caught me by sur…DUCK!” Remy fell to a crouch as she shot from both her hands over his head to destroy the Bot behind him. They looked at each other for a moment, adrenaline beginning to surge, and grinned maniacally before separating to leap back into the fray.

From above, Bobby had seen the girl he adored take one in the back. But before he could sweep in and save her as he hoped, possibly earning himself much desired admiration, the Cajun had stolen his thunder. He scowled in the direction of the new team mate, ignoring the swirl of flying machinery around him. He followed them both with his eyes, an ice bridge arching in a mish mash of pattern as he struggled to keep them both in his sights. He didn’t like that she was constantly looking after the Cajun, nor did he like the Cajun’s eyes on Jubilee. “I’ll show him.” He muttered, as he angled the frozen bridge towards the ground. 

“Bobby, what’re ya doing?” Rogue yelled, as she dodged another laser beam. “Get yor tail back up here and help us out.”

Ignoring his fellow flier, Bobby swept in to take out several ground units around Jubilee and Gambit, earning himself glares from both as he effectively cut them off. He wasn’t following the rules of the simulation; he was supposed to take care of the enemy above. They were so busy scratching their heads over the deviation, as Bobby stayed on the ground freezing the drones in all direction, that they missed several overhead units that rained down a barrage of ‘daisy-cutters’ on the two unsuspecting X-men. Psylocke and Angel were concentrating on their area and had not noticed, but Rogue saw. Yelling for all she was worth, Rogue managed to get Bobby’s attention just as the building surrounding Gambit and Jubilee began to collapse. Jubilee screamed and covered her head, while Gambit flung himself on top of her.

“HALT” Scott commanded, just as the first section of building caved in and was mere inches from crushing them. The scenery disappeared and they were once again in an empty room. “Drake, what the hell are you doing?” The team leader’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “You just got your team mates killed!”

Jubilee glowered and turned her back on him. “Hhmmph…idiot. We could have handled things.” Gambit wisely chose to remain silent. 

“Didn’t look that way from where I was.” Bobby muttered.

“Just what do you think you were trying to accomplish anyway?” Scott demanded.

“Yeh, what was that all about? You really left me in a lurch up there.” Rogue chimed in.

Feeling rather defensive and embarrassed, Bobby flailed his arm in Jubilee’s direction. “They were getting creamed! If *somebody* hadn’t been so busy looking at the new guy’s ass, maybe they wouldn’t have needed the help.” 

Gambit’s brow rose, puzzled at that statement. He was fairly sure it was the ice mutant’s ass that the firecracker constantly stared at and lusted over.

“What the hell?” Jubilee huffed over her shoulder. “I wasn’t staring at no one’s ass. I know how to do my job, Bobby.” She finished, the emphasis on his name filled with sarcasm.

“Well, you didn’t look like you were doing a very good one. You were too busy looking at the view, and not paying attention to the sim.” He countered.

“Oh and I suppose you decided to swoop in and be the ice prince in shining armor? Puleeze, gimme a break.”

“I was TRYING to save your LIFE. Be a little grateful, why don’t cha.” Bobby whined.

Almost, Gambit smirked. But the jealousy and tension, along with the anger and frustration were beginning to play a number on his shields. 

Jubilee rounded on Bobby “Listen here, freezer-burn. Why’re you all up in my business? Just back off already, before I dance pyrotechnics off YOUR ass.”

“ENOUGH” Scott’s voice barked through the speakers. “Drake, back off and quit showing off. We won’t have time for this kind of petty behavior in the field. If this had been an actual battle, all three of you would be dead.” Even through the icy coating, it was easy to see the blush that crept up on Bobby’s cheeks.

“And Jubilee...” her head snapped up to the control booth when she heard her name “...pay attention to the battle, as well as your team mates.” She opened her mouth, prepared to shower a scathing retort to her team leader, then closed it again as she felt a warm hand squeeze her shoulder. 

“Leave it, chere. You wanna look at Gambit’s ass, you go right ahead. Just don’ let it get you killed, neh?” Gambit whispered in her ear, then winked as she blushed prettily. 

The team separated, preparing to reinitiate the battle setting. The cityscape reappeared and the fight was on again. Everyone kept to their assigned areas, fielding laser beams and dispatching drones left and right. Fatigue began to set in, as they moved into the final phases of the training session, and Gambit felt his hold on his powers start to weaken. Rogue too was beginning to feel the strain, Storm’s powers slowly fading away. Scott had explained previously that the trust portion of the exercise entailed the air lift rescue scenario. One by one the flyers rotated, swooping or sliding down and scooping up their team mates, carrying them to safer ground. Gambit was the last to be ‘rescued’ and Bobby grudgingly hauled him several city blocks over, steadfastly ignoring the other man as he held onto his hips. After depositing him, it was Warren’s turn. With a quick glance and smirk in Rogue’s direction, the winged mutant dove in to grasp the upraised hands of the other mutant. Rather than flying horizontally through the landscape, he shot straight up. “Ready to fly, Cajun?”

“Hehn? What you...” was all Gambit managed to get out, before he felt himself swinging. Warren released his grip on the second swing, tossing the younger mutant through the air. Remy gasped, but quickly caught himself as he saw a smiling Rogue heading towards him. 

Tucking in his legs and flipping into a roll, he timed his showboating to extend two hands out to her just as she flew above. “Fancy meeting you here, sugah.” She purred. He started to smile at her, expecting to be lowered to the ground, until he caught the glint in her eyes as she stared at the billionaire above her. The winds responded to her as they zigzagged in a nauseating pattern. “This is where you get off, swamp rat.” She released her hold, not having the strength to swing him outwards. Remy gasped again and saw the windows of the building to his right whiz by at an alarming rate, as he plummeted towards the ground. It was at the third floor of the blurred building that he was pummeled from behind by the winged mutant; Remy’s breath gushing out at the impact. 

“Put me down!” Remy demanded, the panic beginning to build as they again shot through the maze of concrete towers in a stomach rolling path. 

Warren laughed, genuinely enjoying his game. “Now where’s the fun in that, newbie? Gotta initiate you into the group somehow, right?” With that, he flipped the man sideways towards the nearest structure.

Impact imminent, Remy closed his eyes, feeling the tenuous control over his powers slipping away rapidly. Mere feet from collision, gale force winds caught him up, pounding against him and ripping him into a new direction. Rogue was there again. She was about to make another of her dry-witted comments, when she heard his rapid breathing, even above the roar of the winds. Her smile faded as she noted the terrified look on his face. His skin was pale, as if all the blood had been drained away, and he looked ill. “Toss him back, Rogue.” She heard the winged mutant call after her, but she was beginning to think this game was a mistake.

In the control booth, Logan’s anger rose as he watched the display. “What the HELL are they doing?” he barked. Scott was calling over the speakers to end the session. Bobby had long since touched ground and stood there with the others as they watched the scene play out. 

Remy could feel them all. The strength of emotions assaulting him varied from amusement to concern, anger to lust. The tingle in his fingers was alarming, and his vision blurred as the flow of energy through and around him increased, humming hypnotically, capturing his attention. He could see the aura of energy around every object in his line of sight. 

Rogue realized that something was very wrong, and her growing concern for her new team member caused her to neglect her own body’s attempts to warn her. “Warren, I think we should stop now. This ain’t what I thought it would be. This…this was a mistake. I think we…” Without warning, she suddenly lost her train of thought as Storm’s powers faded completely and Remy slipped from her grasp. “REMY!” she screamed as her own body became dead weight in the air. Bobby surged up to catch the falling southerner, as he noted the winged mutant heading for the Cajun. 

“I got him.” Warren grinned, slamming into the falling body and shooting straight up into the sky. There was no ceiling in this simulation and a drop from this distance would be very real; very deadly. Remy was overwhelmed, panicking and nearly hyperventilating as the emotions battered him from all sides. Laughing hysterically, Warren held Remy under the arms, his face turned skyward. “Think you could land on your feet from here, mon petit garcon?” 

The ground below seemed miles away, and with one last desperate effort, Remy placed his hands on both sides of Warren’s face, using his strength to force the winged mutant to look at him. Red orbs flashed brilliantly at ice blue as Remy’s charm lashed out, oozing over the other man like deep, slick oil. “Y' don’ wanna do dis, mon ami.” The words flowed like honey, the sounds of a rich timbre voice lulling the winged man into a hypnotic trance.

Warren was no longer laughing, lost in those exotic eyes as the siren’s song played him like a Stradivarius. “I don’t want to do this.” He heard himself repeat.

Those fingerless gloved hands caressed the smooth skin of the blonde, gaze never wavering. “Y' wanna put Remy down now, gently.” Again, the red orbs flashed, reflecting like a danger sign in Warren’s eyes.

“I want to put you down now, gently.” Warren responded, easing to a stop from his upward climb. Absently nodding, his wings flapped wildly for a moment before he turned, without thought, back the way they had come. Silently Warren descended.  A few feet from the ground, his grip released Remy who, in a whirl of relief and panic, collapsed to one knee panting hard. Warren wavered, bringing one hand up to rub his temples as he closed his eyes, as if coming out of a daze. The team members gathered around, a circle forming unwittingly around the Cajun, and suddenly it was too much. Transported to another place and time, the edges of his vision darkened at a scene from his past. They were closing in on him, hands reaching, grabbing, and pawing. Lust and hate. Sinister enthusiasm muted vague concern. Something inside of Remy shattered and he surged up to the surprise of the others, rearing his fist back and bringing it full force against the jaw of the blonde mutant. There was an audible pop as Warren’s head snapped sideways under the incredible force, and he found himself on his back staring up in shock as the Cajun straddled him. He only had time to register the wild, panicked eyes; the pupils so widely dilated that the red iris appeared as a thin ring floating on a sea of black. It made Warren think of some kind of exotic solar eclipse of a red dwarf star; the pitch-black disc of a moon blocking out all but its dazzlingly-bright flaming corona.. 

Then from nowhere, Warren’s spinning mind noted a weapon; some type of staff lengthening above him. The Cajun’s arms stretched high overhead, his face contorted into pure rage and pain. It seemed to all happen in slow motion as the glowing staff came down, pointing towards his heart as if he had a bulls-eye painted on his chest. His wings, trapped beneath Remy’s feet, flapped and contorted as he tried desperately to wriggle free. Dully, he wondered if the morticians would be able to repair the cave-in of his chest prior to his funeral showing. Vain until the end. 

But the piercing never came. A solid wall of muscle barreled into the boy from the side, sending both bodies sliding across the floor some distance from the others. The breath was knocked out of Remy, as he stared up into golden eyes. Logan snarled; the two outer blades of one hand extended as he brought down his fist to trap the Cajun, the other hand knocking the staff away. The sharp edges of the blades sliced the skin on either side of Remy’s neck, as thin as a paper cut. Blood oozed slowly from the fresh openings but neither man noticed. Both were panting heavily. The emotions of the others seemed somehow muted now, as the feral laid his full weight on top of Remy. It was like there were no emotions coming from the older mutant, and he was somehow shielding Remy from the others. The struggle for breath was nothing as control slowly returned to the Cajun. The older man was still above him snarling, and Remy suddenly realized why he could barely feel the man’s emotions. Most of what he sensed was wild, base-level and palpable. Underneath it all was the vaguest sense of concern, as if that emotion were buried deep within. With a clarity born of experience, Remy understood that Logan’s feral nature was in control. Once his breath evened out, Remy closed his eyes to avoid any hint of challenge and cautiously raised his chin, baring his throat to the older man. 

It was a universal sign that Logan’s feral soul understood. The golden tinge of his eyes faded to blue as his own breath slowed. Logan stared at the boy under him for a few minutes, frowning in surprise as he unconsciously accepted the body language on display. Most wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t be aware of this open show of natural surrender. There were few, least of all any members of the team, that would identify what Logan’s feral nature needed in order to rein it in. It brooked on instinct, spoke of intimate knowledge. If there were any doubts before that the boy had experience with ferals, they were all washed away in this one moment.

He retracted his blades, slicing even deeper into that smooth skin, and hissed as he violently shoved away from the Cajun. He retreated past the questioning, concerned gazes of the others, like rolling thunder, to storm from the room. Hurt poured off of the man in waves and Remy opened his eyes to stare blindly at the ceiling, a soft sigh of guilt escaping his throat. There was no question; somehow he needed to fix this.

End ch 20


	21. Chapter 21

Ch 21

"Fortunately, your jaw isn't broken, though it well should have been with such a stunt." Hank said reprovingly to the winged mutant, as his fingers shifted Warren's chin left and right. The billionaire winced at the movement; the bruise was deep and painful.

Gambit stood off to the side, his bo staff still gripped tightly in his hand as he watched the doctor work. Scott had already chewed them both out, as well as Rogue, but it was the feeling of guilt at having lost control that irked him the most. He was thankful that no one was more seriously hurt and that he hadn't blown the mansion and its contents all to hell. After Scott's scolding, a red-faced Rogue stuttered an apology, which he accepted with a resigned but understanding nod. The winged mutant was a little more stiff and formal in his request for forgiveness, not quite as happy with the outcome of what he truly considered to be just a little teasing. To say he was somewhat surprised when Remy shook his hand and offered up his own apology was an understatement. 

Somberly, everyone filtered out of the room, each lost in their own thoughts. Bobby was the last to leave and turned at the door to face the lone figure still standing with his bo staff towards one corner. "I'm sorry too, Remy. I just…" he blushed and turned towards the door.

"Wait, Bobby." When the ice mutant turned his gaze back to him, Remy gave him a small smile. "It's fine, mon ami. I understand. Mais, you be wrong 'bout one t'ing." At the confused look on the boy's face, Remy's grin broadened. "Not me your belle be lusting after, homme. She all in to you." 

Blonde brows rose in surprise, eyes widening at that revelation. "But, how do you know that?" 

"Gambit knows dese kinds of t'ings." The Cajun said as he tapped one finger against his temple. Not trusting himself yet to loose some of his charm over the boy, he simply smiled warmly. "Trust me."

He could see the hope light up Bobby's eyes, as the boy thanked him and fairly ran from the room. He wished the boy luck and sighed at the naiveté of those two love sick teens as he folded up his staff, steeling himself for what he feared would be an unpleasant confrontation.

********

It took him a while to reach Logan's room, having moved purposefully slow in his steps to the upper floors. He told himself it was to give the older man time to collect himself, but in his heart he knew it was he who was apprehensive. Even now, he could feel the turmoil in the man, though it was more subtle than it had been when he fled the Danger Room earlier. The other mutant's shields were impressive, Remy had to admit, and he wondered at the strength of them. There were no expectations of admittance to the room, so knocking tentatively on the door he only waited a moment before he let himself in. Logan stood ramrod straight at the window, his back to the door and his arms crossed over his chest - closed off to anything and everyone. Quietly he closed the door, reaching behind his back to silently lock it before leaning against the wood to study the man. "Hey, homme." He ventured gently, not really expecting a response. 

The man didn't acknowledge the Cajun, continuing his stoic vigil on the darkness outside the window. He was in no mood to talk with anyone and willed the handsome youth to leave his room, before he did something they might both regret - for the second time today. 

Scratching the side of his head, Remy searched for the best words to express his apologies and explain his actions. "Eh...dat was...I mean, in de Danger Room earlier...dat..." he stopped and took a breath.

"You've been around ferals before." It wasn't a question.

Remy stared at the older man's back and pursed his lips. No point in lying to the man. "Oui, been around one before."

"That's how come ya knew I..." Logan paused, then turned to face the Cajun with hardened eyes, the frustration evident on his face. "I always wondered if there were more like me. I've never believed what some so called experts said about no one mutant having the exact same powers as another."

Remy cocked his head to one side. "Well, non. Dat can't be true. Our powers are part of us, like hair color. So, to say dere ain't another dat can…say…heal real fast like you would be like saying only one person in de world have red hair. Just ain't so." 

There was silence as Logan simply frowned at the boy, before turning back to the window. It was a dismissal, but Remy refused to take the hint. Remy studied the man before him, eyes drawing a line up, down, and around the muscular figure. But, the thoughts behind the appraising gaze had nothing to do with lust, and everything to do with a desire to figure the man out; to get inside the wall he had built around himself. If there was anyone in this whole mansion that could understand walling off a heart to protect it, it was Remy. Only in the last few weeks, with the amount of time he had spent in the other mutant's company, had his own wall begun to crumble, shaken into powdered dust by the stirring of what he thought were long-dead feelings for another soul. That soul stood before him now and it terrified him beyond measure. The thought of allowing another into his heart....he almost shook his head at the half complete thought. No good could come of it - a fact proven time and time again in his short-lived existence. Anyone he had ever loved either left him, made him leave, or died by his own hand and the depressing situation he now found himself in wasn't a great omen for future happiness. Somewhere along the way, somehow, his feelings for the other man had deepened beyond what he thought he was capable of. To see Logan close himself off was like a physical blow to the Cajun and a challenge of the greatest magnitude. But if there was one thing Remy relished, it was a challenge. There was something here of great importance, something just out of reach that Remy needed to understand. It was a large piece of the puzzle that was Wolverine. As much as he wanted to call on his vast experience with Sabertooth to guide him in his dealings with Logan, Remy knew it wasn't quite the same. Despite their mutant similarities, the two men were like night and day.

"You're afraid of your feral side." Remy stated to the stiff-backed mutant, noting the tightening of the other man's hands into fists. Logan didn't answer, but that was not unexpected. So Remy did what he always did in an uncomfortable setting...he babbled. "Ya know, it ain't such a bad t'ing, going feral."

Logan snorted angrily. "The fuck do you know?"

"I told you, been around..."

"That don't mean shit. Just because ya been around a feral, don't mean ya know anything about what it's like." Logan interrupted, irritated that the boy wouldn't just leave him the hell alone.

Remy scratched the side of his face, the sound like sandpaper as his nails scraped across stubble. "Well, non. Can't say I rightly do. How 'bout you just explain it to dis here Cajun."

Logan remained stoic but the man's ghostly image in the window glass reflected the internal struggle which showed clearly on his face, as he sought to put his feelings into words. As much as Remy wanted to reach out and tell the man he could feel it all, he needed to hear the words that Logan might say. "It feels..." Logan started and then paused, one hand coming up to lean against the cool pane as he rested his head against his forearm. It was the night of a new moon, no ivory light filled the sky. And with the thick, ominous clouds crowding the skies, all the stars were blocked from sight, leaving only black emptiness that mirrored the hole Logan felt in his soul. Logan chuckled, a bitter sound devoid of any humor. "Hell, I don't even know what it feels like. When I'm totally....in that place, it's like something else takes over, and the me that is me is gone. Ya know, I can't even remember any of it usually. I just...go away, get buried deep inside my own mind, and then I eventually come back to...whatever the hell my other side did while I was sleepin'."

Remy was silent for a moment as he thought about that. "Sometimes I do dat. Just go away to my own special place inside my head. Only, I ain't lucky enough to be oblivious 'bout de reasons why. Wish I could..."

"No ya don't, boy. It ain't somethin' to want, trust me. To be locked inside yerself, when the killin' machine that is yer body goes on a rampage - what's to desire 'bout that? I fuckin' hate it." Logan spat, a sneer visible in the pane's reflection. 

"Hmm...you like control. Ain't a bad t'ing to lose it every once in a while, y' know. Better dan lettin' it eat you alive inside. And you only protectin' yourself from a perceived t'reat. Is part of your nature, homme. We all got some animal instincts dat..."

Logan whirled around to face him, his hands clenching into fist. "I'm NOT an animal!" he cried, his face and voice full of anguish. He stared at the Cajun, but it was obvious to Remy that he was seeing something or someone else; pleading with a memory of some kind.

Remy gasped at the pain that slammed into him like a knife, and his body moved before he had time to process his thoughts. In two strides, he reached the other mutant and grabbed him by both arms to shake him to attention. "Non! You're not an animal. You're a flesh and blood man just like me, just like any of us. De difference is you have a unique gift dat makes you special, desirable. You strong, Logan. Strong and beautiful." And without hesitation, Remy scooped down and captured Logan's lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. After a moment's hesitation, Logan grasped the boy and pulled him in tight, clutching at him like some sort of lifeline as their tongues danced. Nimble fingers slid through thick black locks, as Remy pulled the older male into him, a small whimper escaping his throat as the possessive kiss deepened. The feral reached down and grabbed the Cajun, hoisting him up and walking towards the bed, flinging them both down on top, yet never once breaking the kiss. Clothes were a hindrance, and the young thief managed to deftly finger the buttons to release their locking hold on material, shirts sliding off without notice as lips and tongue quested over skin. 

Logan paused on top of the Cajun and stared at the pale skin peppered with dustings of auburn hair that thickened into a trail leading past the waistband of his jeans. Large hands ran up the sides of the younger mutant, crossing over breast bone and down the mid-line of the chest, outlining the shape of his ribcage. The feral was fascinated with the texture of skin over bone, touch being one of his more hypersensitive senses. The sensuous and erotic feelings that flowed though the tips of his fingers sent shivers down his spine. He traced the contour of the boy's upper body like a topographer mapping the surface features of a geographic region. He lingered longest over scars of varying lengths and complexities, not voicing any questions as he caressed the puckered skin. Remy squirmed under his touch, embarrassed at his less than perfect dermis. "Non, don'. Dey're ugly."

Pausing, Logan glanced up into red orbs that glittered in the dark. "I don't think they're ugly. Each one of these scars are beautiful. They mean that you survived and they're part of you." 

Remy snorted. "Dat easy for you to say. Your skin be flawless, t'anks to your healing power."

Even in the dimly lit room, Remy could see the serious glint in the older man's eyes. "I may have perfect skin, but it don't mean there ain't scars. It's just that mine are on the inside." He looked back at a couple of larger ones that seemed to be surgical in origin and kissed the angry mounds reverently.

The weight of those words were heavy in Remy's mind. Logan thought his scars were beautiful. Never before had anyone paid this kind of attention to his body, his needs. It made him dizzy with desire; his breathing increasing to rapid pants as the heat in his body rose. Overwhelmed with depths of feelings he had never felt for another sexual partner, he felt a need so great it almost seemed as if he would burst. Suddenly, things were clear in his mind, he wanted this man as he had never wanted another before. Surging upwards, he caught Logan by surprise, lending him the strength he needed to flip the older man onto his back. With an unexpected urgency, he fumbled first at his pants and then at the feral's, desperate to have them both naked. 

Once he had managed to remove both pairs, Remy sat back to look down on the older man in all his glory, devouring the masterpiece before him like a starving artist. He leaned down to latch onto a nipple, sucking and stroking his tongue over the little nub until it hardened. Releasing his hold on the tortured piece of flesh, he blew gently across the saliva soaked skin, sending a pleasant tickling sensation straight to Logan's groin. The older man groaned at the feel, fingers buried in the auburn silk of the boy above him as his eyes closed in bliss. Not wanting to neglect the twin, thief like fingers ghosted over the other nipple, rubbing and twisting the nubbin between two fingers to bring it to full attention as well. Fingernails scrapped a line down Logan's chest, in the wake of such a talented tongue. Remy moved lower and lower, dipping his tongue into the navel before him and earning another moan from the man who was enjoying his ministrations. Logan resisted the urge to push the boy's head further down - he didn't want to hurt Remy - so he moved his hands to the covers below, clutching the sheets in anticipation. 

Remy moved lower, temporarily ignoring the straining erection that bobbed before his nose, as he took a moment to inhale the rich scent of his lover. It was a heady scent, strong and masculine, that made Remy's mouth water. For all the times he had done this, never before had he actually looked forward to sucking another man's cock. Taking pity on the writhing man below him, Remy engulfed Logan completely to the root, causing the older man to arch off the bed with a cry in delighted surprise. Hollowing both cheeks, Remy pulled on the shaft as he slid up to the head, swirling his tongue around the mushroom top and capturing the pearling liquid at the slit. The slightly bitter taste was erotic to Remy and he licked his lips to keep any from escaping. His tongue darted out to slide along the large vein on the underside of Logan's shaft, feeling the feral's racing heartbeat pulse through the flesh. Further down his tongue moved, until he reached the twin sacs; gathering one in his mouth to suckle on it like candy, enjoying the flavor and texture of the tightened skin. Teeth scrapped gently over the sensitive flesh as Remy released first one and then the other ball, moving his attention to the area behind. He smiled at the rumbling sounds of pleasure that radiated through Logan's chest. 

Logan was a mess of nerves, moaning and sighing at the sensations the boy was bringing him. It had been so long since he had been with anyone and he knew he wouldn't hold out much longer with what the Cajun was doing to him. He reached down and gently tugged on Remy's hair, silently begging him for mercy. Remy took the cue and kissed his way back up the feral's body. He was enjoying the sounds the older man was making, but knew it was time to take things to the next level. As he suckled on Logan's collar bone, he reached for the lotion he had seen on the night stand so that he could prepare himself to receive the man. Halfway up Logan's neck, Remy froze mid-lick when he heard the unexpected words from the older man. "I wanna feel ya inside me."

The Cajun pushed back and blinked at Logan, certain he had completely misunderstood. "Hehn?"

Ocean colored eyes filled with need stared unwavering back at ruby eyes. "I wanna feel ya inside me. I want ya. Please." He needed to feel the boy above him, to take away the emptiness inside. He was not an animal with only survival instincts. He was human, with wants and needs like any other; as capable and willing to give as much as he received. 

The Cajun just stared, his erection beginning to wane as a knot of nervous tension took root in his stomach. The man, who Remy knew desired control above all else, was asking him to do the taking? It made no sense; made the universe seem off center. It wasn't the way things worked in Remy's world - at least up to now. Logan misread the boy's hesitation. "Unless ya didn't wanna go that far?" Which seemed incredulous to Logan when they were both lying naked, skin to skin in varying stages of arousal. 

The question seemed to bring Remy out of his musings. "Dieu! Non! I want dis. It just…" he sat back on his haunches, straddling the older man's hips. Logan's erection fit nicely into the crack of his ass and Remy couldn't help undulating slightly, allowing the feral's length to move up and down enticingly between his cheeks. "...don' you wanna be in me?" Remy breathed. 

Logan growled and grabbed Remy's hips, stilling the boy's movements before he gave into the younger mutant's actions. "Yes, I do. And I plan to next time. But tonight, I need ta feel you inside."

It took a moment to process, but Logan's mentioning of a 'next time' didn't escape him. It brought a smile to his face, and anticipation made his insides flutter. He knew what it felt like to be with both sexes. But he had never taken another man and had always been curious. "You sure?" He had to ask one last time, but couldn't quite keep the longing from his voice. 

Logan cupped his face with both hands. "Very."

Remy released a shaky breath, the nervous tension returning. As badly as he wanted to do this, Remy also wanted to do it right; make the older mutant feel nothing but pleasure. And while he may have never been top in the past, he had plenty of experience on what felt good and what didn't for the one receiving. He lowered himself over Logan, capturing the feral's lips in a tender kiss. Tongues played with each other, teasing and petting, exploring teeth and the contour of the roofs of both mouths. He broke the kiss with the older man, trailing saliva down Logan's chin as Remy nibbled his way lower and lower, until he once again reached the older man's tormented length. Running his tongue from base to tip, he sucked on Logan's cock like a lollipop, swirling his tongue around the head and drawing groans from the older man. All the while, his fingers were busy spreading the lotion and teasing the older man's opening, feeling the puckered entrance quiver in anticipation. Skillful fingers pushed in slow and deep, the digits curving and moving about until he found what he was searching for. As he pressed against that secret spot, he almost lost his hold on the hardened flesh in his mouth as Logan arched violently from the bed.

"Unnn...oh damn..." Logan cried as a shock of pleasure surged through him. "M-More."

Remy grinned and obliged, pressing the fleshy mound again and sending another spike of pleasure to the feral, the emotions rolling past his own shields and the pleasured groans of his lover only heightening the experience. He sucked in earnest, head bobbing up and down rapidly. Logan could feel himself approaching the edge and attempted to pull the other away. "Remy...I'm gonna...Rem..." It was the only warning he was able to give the boy, as his balls tightened and cock spasmed in the moist warmth of the Cajun's mouth. Remy drank him down like a man dying of thirst, until Logan's member was spent; finally releasing the softening member and licking it clean, savoring the bitter taste that was uniquely Logan. The older man laid panting, eyes glazed over in sated bliss as he blinked towards the ceiling. Once he felt he could move again, he reached down and pulled the Cajun to him, kissing the boy with all the passion he felt, tasting himself on the younger mutant's tongue. Logan's fingers threaded into the auburn locks and fisted Remy's hair, holding the other's head in place as Logan ravaged that sweet mouth. When the kiss broke, Remy's eyes were closed and he was breathless. Logan grinned up at him, waiting for those eyes to open. When they did, his smile broadened. "That was amazin', Gumbo. Now...Your turn." Logan pushed him back and began to turn on his stomach when he felt a hand press his shoulder back.

"Whatcha doing?" Remy asked, confused for a moment in his lust-filled haze.

Bemused, Logan blinked at him for a moment. "Turnin' over."

Frowning, Remy held the older man in place. "Is dat de way you want me to take you?" The feral was a man who liked control, but was willing to give it up to Remy in this moment. It was a precious gift that took the Cajun's breath away and brought wetness to his eyes. But, Remy didn't want to completely strip away what the man held so dear. 

Logan's brows puckered. "I...my legs are pretty heavy for ya to have to hold up."

"Dat not what I asked, cher." Ruby eyes softened as he watched a myriad of emotions play out over the older man's face; felt the emotions in his own mind. "Is dat how you want dis?" Remy knew what he himself preferred, but wanted the choice to be Logan's. 

All of his life, Logan searched for someone who might understand him, who might bring to his wild nature a calming peace, a balm on the wounds of his tortured soul. Lifetimes come and gone, each new generation and each new struggle wearing away his fragile grip on humanity. This boy, so young in appearance, so aged in thought, understood him more than any one ever had before. Maybe it was the prior experiences with other ferals, or maybe it was some innate mutant ability. Whatever it was, Logan's eyes never saw it more clearly than right in this moment. Reaching up to the Cajun, Logan ran his fingers gently over the aristocratic brow, sliding down that exquisite nose to skim lightly over plump, luscious lips; back up to cup and stroke high cheekbones with his thumbs before settling onto both sides of that slender neck. "I just wanna feel you any way I can." 

The sound rumbled from the older mutant's chest, sending a shiver through Remy's body. He felt the other man's cock twitch in renewed interest against his stomach and moved his hand to stroke along Logan's member as he lost himself in those beautiful blue eyes. "Den I wanna see your face when I make love to you, cher." He whispered huskily, watching in awe at the depth of emotion displayed in those cobalt eyes.

Logan laid back and spread his legs in invitation, pleased as he watched the younger mutant position himself between. For his part, Remy gathered the pillows on the bed, idly noting that the man had five of them. / _What he need wit' five pillows?_ / Remy mused before turning his attention back to the task at hand. Three were maneuvered in place under Logan's hips, raising the lower half of the feral's body into a more comfortable, accessible position. A fourth pillow was rolled in on itself and shoved in the space between the bed and the small of Logan's back. Despite the older man's initial protest, Remy placed those muscular legs over his shoulders and placed the tip of his erection at the older man's entrance, teasing the rim with tiny circular movements of the hypersensitive head. "Ready?" He breathed out with barely contained lust. At the nod from the other, Remy slowly pushed into that tight, welcoming heat. Inch by glorious inch disappeared as Logan gasped at the incredible fullness. Time seemed to stand still with the strain and effort, but Remy was determined to enter as slowly as possible, giving Logan time to adjust. When his member was finally seated to the root, Remy's breathing became labored as he held that position. It was amazing, this feeling; impossibly tight and an unfathomable joy he had never experienced in his whole sordid life.

Logan groaned at the burn, pleasure and pain mixing together, his own breath growing shallow. Sweat broke out on their bodies as they remained motionless and joined, until finally Logan needed the boy to move. The command from the man beneath him sent a tingle of excitement to his body and Remy began a slow, torturous rhythm designed to bring them both to the edge again and again without falling over. The pillows gave the perfect angle so that thrust after thrust hit that spot inside, sending explosions of pure bliss to Logan's already overloaded senses. "Harder, faster" he growled, lust and need fuelling his throaty moans.

It was an order that Remy couldn't refuse as he began to drive into his lover, the cords in his neck straining as flesh slapped against flesh, filling the room with an intensely erotic sound to accompany the moans and groans of the two men in the heat of passion. Sweat poured from their bodies in rivulets, pooling in the sheets below as they moved. Logan's head thrashed from side to side as his neglected shaft turned an angry red, steadily weeping its desire. "Touch yourself, cher. Lemme see you come." Remy gasped out, pounding erratically as he approached his own climax. 

One large, beefy hand wrapped itself around that proud piece of flesh and stroked in time to Remy's thrusts. Remy brought is own hand around the leg he was holding and covered the feral's hand, helping the man pleasure himself. A few more strokes and Logan's back arched, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he released his essence over them both, white hot ribbons streaming out continuously to stripe his own chest. Seeing and feeling the older man in the throes of passion, feeling his lover clench tightly around him, was too much for Remy and he lost his own battle, tensing and filling the man beneath him with fiery liquid, claiming Logan in the most primal way. He shoved his cock in as deep as possible; his hips flush with Logan's ass, wishing he could meld completely inside the other man and join their souls for all time. 

When the last of his seed was released, Remy fell forward onto Logan; his face buried in the other man's neck as he sobbed in gratitude at what this powerful, beautiful man had given to him. Immediately, two big arms folded around the boy, holding the trembling body tight and riding out the storm of emotions. After such mind-blowing sex, there was only confusion when he heard the boy sobbing. Logan was fairly sure the Cajun was no virgin. And it took a minute for the older man to understand what caused the loss of control in that normally cool façade. But, he said nothing, realizing what the boy needed as much as Remy had read Logan's own needs. Petting the Cajun's sweat-soaked locks and pushing the plastered hair away from the younger man's neck, Logan kissed his temple and let the boy come down on his own. Eventually, both men cleaned up their dried essence and settled, the cooling sweat on their skin bringing a slight chill to their bodies. Logan pulled the sheet over them as Remy pillowed his head on Logan's chest, arms wrapping around the older man as if he might disappear. And they both drifted into the first peaceful slumber either had experienced in a long, long time.

End ch 21


	22. Chapter 22

Ch 22

 

Everything changed.  It was something Remy couldn’t deny as he slowly woke to the deep, steady breathing of the man he had made love to the night before.  At least, he assumed that’s what they had done.  Of all the partners he had ever lain with, never before had such deep feelings been involved and never before had he stayed the whole night, sleeping next to his mark.  Only, he couldn’t think of this man as a mark; Logan meant more to him than that.  That thought alone made their coupling of the previous night more than just sex.  The soft, downy-like hair of Logan’s chest tickled Remy’s cheek where it lay nestled.  The heat of the older man’s body seeped through to Remy’s bones, suffusing his body with incredible warmth; the feeling of sunlight raising the temperatures of a previously dark, cold void.  Remy’s eyes wandered down the older man’s torso, taking in as much as possible without moving his head.  They flickered over to the window where early morning sun slivered through small openings between the heavy draperies, striping the end of the bed in a muted orange hue.  It disturbed Remy that he had not noticed Logan leaving the bed at some point in the night to close the curtains.  Subconsciously, the younger man’s body was already fully trusting of the feral.  He was also touched that the man thought enough of him and his sensitive eyes to shut out the sun.  A bitter, jaded voice deep inside taunted him, though.  / _He also has sensitive eyes.  He pulled those curtains for himself_ /  Yet, as soon as the thought emerged he squashed it, knowing it for the lie that it was. 

 

His bladder was beginning to make itself known, slowly demanding attention and inevitable action, but Remy couldn’t be bothered to move just yet.  Lying in the older man’s arms, there was comfort to be had here, something missing from Remy’s life for too many years.  The deep even sounds of breathing, in conjunction with the steady rise and fall of the chest pillowed beneath him, was enough to lull Remy into a mild meditative trance much more effectively than his Joker card ever could.  A few minutes later, he was startled by the rumbling of the chest beneath him as the older man spoke.  “You awake?”

 

“Oui” he breathed out, almost afraid to disturb the tranquility that had settled in the early morning light.

 

For a moment neither spoke, enjoying the companionable silence.  Thoughts of last night ventured through Remy’s mind, bringing with it the awkwardness of waking in the older man’s arms.  It wasn’t a position he was accustomed to, and he wondered what the appropriate actions of the morning would be.  Should he simply leave?  Give the man a quick kiss of thanks and maybe a blowjob in appreciation?  Or perhaps he should romance the feral, bring him flowers and chocolates, or sing him silly little love songs?  / _Right_ / he snorted at the thought.  As if the man would want to have anything to do with him once this mission was completed.  That sudden thought made his heart within his chest tighten, clenching with despair.      

 

“What?”  Logan questioned, his voice slightly gruff with the final dregs of sleep.

 

“Not’ing, just t’inking ‘bout...dis.”  Remy moved his hand over the fine chest hairs of the man below him. 

 

Logan shifted a little, scooting his body up so that he leaned against the headboard to stare down at the Cajun.  Running his hand through the boy’s soft auburn locks, he frowned in thought.  “It...bother ya what we did last night?  You regrettin’ it, Cajun?”  He tried to make his voice sound neutral, but there was an inflection of hurt none the less.

 

Remy picked up on it and looked up into those azure eyes to quickly assure the older man.  “Non, Logan.  Don’ regret it a’tall.” 

 

“Then what?”

 

He turned away from the feral’s gaze, slender fingers drawing patterns on the massive chest beneath him.  “Just wond'ring what de ot’ers will t’ink.  Dis your home, Logan.”  Remy sighed as he laid his cheek back down and stared towards the window where the morning light had brightened considerably.  “Two men sleeping togedder ain’t exactly normal, neh?  I know what it like to have de people you love turn deir back on you.”

 

Logan snorted, a sound that caused Remy to look back at him in surprise.  “Since when did I give a shit about crap like that?”  Seeing the confusion on Remy’s face, Logan brushed the auburn bangs back, so he could see both sets of glowing eyes.  “Look Remy, people are gonna think what they think and say what they wanna say about ya no matter what ya do to try and please ‘em.  So, in the end, ya only gotta please yerself.  Understand?”  He stroked the younger man’s face a moment and chuckled before continuing.  “Maybe I’ve grown cynical in my old age, but I really don’t give a damn what other people think.  They’ll either accept me for me, or I’ll move on.” 

 

Remy smiled at the feral.  “It would be deir loss, homme.”

 

“Damn straight.”  Logan grinned back.  “Now, I dunno about you, but I could eat a horse.” 

 

Remy took that as his cue to get moving.  As he walked towards the door leading to the older man’s private bath, as naked as the day he was born, he paused and glanced back at Logan, smirking at the lust he could see in those ocean colored orbs.  “Y’ know, I used quite a bit a hot water after practice yesterday.  Pro’bly won’t be as much for everyone today.  We should t’ink about conserving it, neh?”  He winked at the feral in invitation before sashaying through the door.  Logan grinned at the retreating form and threw back the covers to follow.  It had been a long time since he had made love in the shower.

 

******

 

They were late making their way into the common eating area, Remy slightly behind Logan.  A majority of the residents had finished and left already, only the team leader, his wife and Rogue remaining.  Remy struggled to hide the smug smirk that threatened his face when he noted the blushing pregnant telepath sitting next to her scowling husband.  It was obvious that she had picked up on their morning activities, and apparently shared it with Scott.  “Bon jour.” he crooned; a dazzling row of teeth in full display to greet the trio as he sat down next to Jean.   For his part, Logan merely grunted and moved to a chair on the opposite side of the table, next to the southern girl and facing the red-haired beauty. 

 

The feral’s plate was piled high with various breakfast meats, and he dug into his meal with gusto, heartily ignoring the scathing look his leader was giving him behind those protective lenses.  But, Scott refused to be ignored.  “You’re late.  Breakfast started over an hour ago.”

 

“So?”  Logan shrugged as he forked a piece of sausage and popped it in his mouth, resisting the urge to smack his lips and chew with his mouth open just to annoy the other man.

 

Scott simmered and ground his teeth.  “So, you’re expected to join everyone else at the table when the meal is served.”

 

Logan continued to focus on shoveling in his food, almost as if the whole conversation was a waste of his time.  “Don’t remember there being any rules saying I gotta show up to meals with the group.”

 

“It’s understood.  What kind of example do you think you’re setting?”  There was more behind the question than mere tardiness to breakfast.

 

Shrugging again, Logan took a sip of his coffee, eyeing the other man over the rim of his cup, as he savored the rich full-bodied chicory taste before answering.  “Don’t really care.”

 

Remy watched the little exchange with some amusement.  There was obviously more going on between the two than a simple missed meal.  It was almost like watching two wolves challenge each other over some unknown territory – the victor being the one to lead the pack.  Rogue on the other hand was simply confused, aware that something had taken place to irritate the team leader – something to do with Logan and the Cajun, a thought she didn’t like in the least.  Her eyes widened in surprise when Scott slammed the side of one fist down, the silverware beside his plate clanking with the tremor of the table.  “What do you mean you don’t care?  What you do reflects on this team as a whole.  You, of all people, should know that the others look up to you.  Your actions directly influence the younger ones.  I can’t have that, Logan.”

 

“Scott.”  Jean’s quiet voice drifted out, as she placed a restraining hand on her husband’s forearm.

 

Logan paused in his eating, placed the utensils back on the table and wiped his mouth before turning narrowed eyes on Cyclops.  “Last time I checked, I wasn’t in the military anymore, Scooter.  What I do is my business.”  A smile that was little more than a baring of teeth appeared on the feral’s face, as he deliberately used the derogatory nickname to irritate the other man. 

 

Scott stood and frowned down at the older man.  “As long as it doesn’t endanger the team.”

 

Now it was Logan’s turn to frown.  “Ain’t done nuttin’ to endanger the team.” He replied a bit defensively.

 

“Yet.” Scott answered, casting a significant glance in the squirming Cajun’s direction, before turning back to the feral with a grim set to his mouth.

 

Anger surged in Logan and he took a moment to bring his emotions under control.  Slowly, he stood from the table and faced the other mutant, his posture both relaxed and threatening at the same time; muscles tensing and flexing with raw power like a snake preparing to strike.  “Watch it, bub.”  He saw the team leader’s mouth open as if to say something before it snapped shut again, a muscle twitching in the younger man’s jaw as he realized the situation was rapidly deteriorating.

 

Logan took a moment to look at the beautiful and very pregnant woman he had once desired above all others, then turned his gaze toward the bewildered young Southerner sitting next to him, before making the decision that it was time to leave a potentially volatile situation.  “C’mon, Cajun.  Think I’m in the mood for something a little bit stronger than coffee.”  With that, he made his move to leave the room, trusting the boy to follow.  Remy gave the other three a lopsided grin, before waving his own departure.

 

Scott was about to call after them when he felt his wife’s presence at his side.  “Don’t, Scott.”

 

“But...”

 

“The tighter you hold onto something, the more it will slip through your grasp.” She brought her fingers up to caress his jaw.  “Don’t push him so hard with your rules, sweetie, or you’ll push him away.  And that would definitely be a danger for the team.”

 

He seemed to deflate with those words, a pout forming on his lips that looked odd on his handsome, angular face.  “I’m not sure about that boy.  I wish the Professor would, just this once, forget his moral high ground and scan Remy’s mind.  I want to know that he’s not here to cause any problems.”  Scott’s other hand came to rest on her swollen belly, unconsciously signifying where most of his fears lay.  

 

“And we both know that’s not right, Scott.  I understand your worries.  But we have to trust the Professor.  And we have to trust Logan.  They are both very good judges of character.”  Jean reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before she slowly made her way out of the room. 

 

Scott sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, then glanced over to Rogue.  “Sorry you had to see all that, Rogue.  I guess Jean’s right, we can’t just invade a person’s mind for no reason.”  He paused for a moment, weighing his next words carefully.  “But, if someone who had no control over their powers were to accidentally gain access to his mind.  Well, that couldn’t be helped…could it?”  He speared her with a knowing look, before leaving the befuddled girl to her own thoughts.

 

********

 

“That sanctimonious bastard.” Logan hissed when he was clear of the mansion.  The air was sharp with the smell of early frost, as the days shortened in the progression of the season towards winter.  It was that odd, in-between time of the year when a heavy coat was too much, yet a light jacket didn’t keep the chill at bay.  Logan strode with purpose down the paths leading to the lake.  Remy followed at a leisurely pace, never losing sight of the man, but not rushing to walk beside him either.  It was obvious that Logan needed some space at the moment.  When the feral reached the spot he had shown Remy when the Cajun had first come to the mansion, he stopped and took a deep breath, letting the crisp moist air coat the inside of his lungs.  A cigar was pulled from his top shirt pocket and he started patting himself in search of his matches, frustration mounting as the fire sticks failed to surface.  So absorbed in his ire, he was caught be surprise and flinched slightly when the end of his stogie popped and ignited, the boy’s finger hovering just to the side where he had just touched it.  Deep blue eyes shifted sideways to stare at the Cajun for a moment. before he puffed out a gust of smoke and thanked the boy.

 

Logan retreated to the log, remembering briefly the kiss he had shared with Remy in that same spot.  Bringing one knee to his chest and resting his forearm on it, he let his hand dangle with the cigar caught between his fingers as he stared out over the water.  Remy bit his lower lip in thought before shrugging and moving to sit beside the shorter man.  Long, lean legs stretched out in front, feet crossing at the ankles as Remy began to shred a dead leaf that he snapped off a limb jutting from the top of the downed tree trunk.  For a while, the only sounds were those of nature; the water gently lapping at the edges of its bank, the rustle of wind through bushes that never defoliated, even in the dead of winter, and the crinkle of the leaf in Remy’s hands.  The serenity was broken as the feral mumbled.  “Where the hell does he get off ordering me about like that?  Damn, stuck-up prick.”

 

Remy said nothing; simply stared at the veins remaining in the leaf he had all but decimated and waited for the older man to continue.  “It’s not like we HAVE to have breakfast together all the damn time, right?”  But Remy knew the man wasn’t really expecting an answer from him, so he kept his mouth shut.  “I mean, what the fuck?”

 

Crimson eyes looked up when the older man swiped a large hand over his face and sighed, the anger melting away to nothing in that one gesture.  “Sorry, Cajun.”

 

Logan's apology finally cued Remy to speak.  “Dat weren’t ‘bout breakfast, eh mon ami?”  When blue eyes turned to him, Remy turned away to stare at the distance beyond the waters of the lake.  “Dis ‘bout you and me. Two men sleeping togedder.  What I was afraid of.”  Remy chuckled, but the sound was bitter.  “Funny how dose dat are persecuted can demselves be prejudice.”   

 

“No, that ain’t it.”  The absolute surety with which Logan answered made Remy’s eyes snap back to him.  “Xavier’s dream, and this refuge he’s created, would be damn hypocritical if they felt that way about someone’s sexual preferences.  No, this ain’t about you at all, Cajun.  This is about a mistake I made when I first came here.  Something Scooter has yet to let go.”

 

Remy was intrigued to say the least.  A thousand questions flooded his mind, but he bit his tongue and threw an expectant look at the older man.  With the obvious desire for an answer written all over the boy’s face, Logan smirked and then brought the cigar to his lips to inhale the rich tang that always relaxed him.  The flavor mingled with the lingering after-taste of the Cajun from their morning coupling.  Even the food consumed at the breakfast table and the bold morning brew had failed to completely wash away the boy’s essence from his tongue, and Logan was never more grateful for his enhanced senses as he enjoyed the piquancy of the mixture. 

 

The comfortable silence stretched on for a while as Logan rolled the flavors around his tongue, staring at the end of his cigar that hung between the fingers of his dangling hand.  “When I first came here...” he began, flicking the stogie and watching the ashes blow away in the breeze, “...I was angry and unfocused.  I lashed out at everything, like a wounded animal.  Hell I WAS a wounded animal.”

 

“What happened to make you dat way, cher?” Remy tentatively asked, eyes focused on the same point of the cigar as Logan’s, almost as if mesmerized by the light burning at the end of the stick. 

 

Logan glanced at Remy, then turned back to face the wind blowing in from the lake.  “Ya gotta understand, Cajun.  I don’t really remember much from before I came here.  Just bits and pieces.  Enough to know it was bad.  And very painful.”  His free hand picked at the bark of the tree trunk beneath him.  Outwardly, his demeanor was calm and accepting, but Remy could feel the turmoil underneath, the mish-mash of emotions that these vague memories were obviously stirring.

 

So he turned his gaze away from the feral, giving the older man a modicum of privacy as he listened to Logan tell his story.  It was hard to hear the underlying pain and loneliness, the overwhelming despair so like his own as Logan shared the events that transpired with the feral’s initial arrival at the institute.  It really didn’t come as a shock to Remy to hear the older man had a thing for the red-headed telepath.  The Cajun had felt remnants of that once strong bond between the two, though time had changed the love to something more tender, less lustful.  What did surprise him was the chaos the obvious love-triangle had caused within the team; chaos so violent as to divide members bitterly.  And a team with members at odds became a less effective fighting force against enemies that sought to destroy them.  Remy could here the regret in the older man’s voice as he spoke of the near fatal losses the X-men had endured; how the school in turn suffered from lack of enrollment.  There was fear, tension, and lack of respect from all; in-fighting breaking out between groups of students on a regular basis.  Logan’s berserker rages were frequent and vicious, taking both the Professor and Jean’s talents to subdue him.  In the end, Xavier’s dream was nearly destroyed from within, before it even had a chance to take root.

 

It was Jean, herself, that finally brought an end to the upheavals, with strong backing from Xavier.  She had brought both of the men she loved together in the danger room, trapping them within electronic fields and making them both see reason.  She broke Logan’s heart when she told him in no uncertain terms that her love, first and foremost, went to Scott, that he was the other half of her soul.  But, she also made it clear to Scott that her choice in no way diminished the feelings she had for the feral.  It took many long hours of the three facing off in the danger room, before a kind of tenuous peace was forged.  Though he was unhappy with her decision, Logan accepted the team leader as Jean’s mate, and without the challenge for her affections, the feral was able to concentrate more on the healing he desperately needed.  It had taken a lot of hard work to rebuild the cohesion within the team, but forgiveness didn’t mean that Scott had forgotten and, even after all this time, the two Alpha males still rubbed each other the wrong way.

 

“So, he’s worried that I’m gonna go off the deep end or something now that I seem to be focusing my attentions on you.”  Logan gave Remy a wry grin before sticking the cigar in his mouth and puffing.

 

“Mais, it ain’t de same situation, mon ami.  Jus’ cause you and I doing a horizontal tango, don’ mean you gonna lose your mind.”

 

“A horizontal tango?” Logan repeated softly.  “Is that what we’re doing?”  He turned suddenly towards the Cajun, a serious glint in his eyes.  “I don’t get close to many people, Cajun, and I certainly don’t bed ‘em without reason.”

 

Remy chuckled nervously and turned his gaze back to the waters.  What the hell was the man trying to tell him?  “What you gon’ on ‘bout, Logan?  You trying to tell me you love me or somet’ing?”

 

“You don’t know?”  Logan arched a brow.  The question caused Remy to give the feral a sharp look.  Had the older man figured out his third mutation?  But, he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought when he saw Logan slump slightly and whisper dejectedly.  “Perhaps it ain’t meant for someone like me to love.”

 

Irritation flared in the Cajun and he grabbed Logan by both arms, shaking the older man roughly.  Caught by surprise, Logan dropped his stogie and nearly lost his balance on the log.  “De hell, Logan?  Everyone deserve love.  Why you go and say somet’ing like dat for, hehn?”

 

“Everyone I get close to eventually leaves me one way or the other, whether I want them to or not.  I’ve been around a long time, Cajun.  Too long, in fact.  I maybe can’t remember all of my past, but I’m not stupid enough to think it ain’t happened before, and not optimistic enough to think it won’t happen again.”  Logan hissed.

 

“Dat don’ mean you give up, cher.”  Remy leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against the older man, tasting the tobacco and flavors that were uniquely Logan.  “How dat saying go?  When life t’row you lemons, you make lemonade, neh?  And you never know, mon ami.  Mebbe someone out dere be round to love you long after ot’ers gone.”  Almost, Remy revealed the secrets of the Guild; the special brew that ensured abnormal longevity of life, but caught himself before he shared too much.

 

Logan gave Remy a sad smile, reaching up to cup the younger man’s face.  “How ‘bout you, Remy.  Can ya say ya love me?”

 

He froze, caught in those ocean colored orbs as his heart hammered in his chest and he struggled for breath.  The last time he had said those words to anyone, he’d lost his adopted family a short time later.  Rich, full lips parted then closed, a pink tongue poking out to lick suddenly dry lips as he tried to push sound around the lump in his throat. 

 

“WOOOOOLFFIEEEEEEEEEEE”

 

Logan’s head snapped sideways towards the mansion, as he heard the distant call of his name.  He recognized Jubilee’s voice and knew it wouldn’t be long before she tracked him here.  Sliding his gaze back to the panicked ruby eyes, he chuckled and rose to stand beside the boy.  “Saved by the shrill, eh kid?”  Their gazes locked again briefly, before Logan bent down and placed a tender kiss on the Cajun’s high forehead, and strolled off in the direction of their team mate. 

 

*******

End ch 22 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See primary warnings in first chapter
> 
> Extra Warnings: This chapter contains a het scene (M/F) that some may consider non-consensual. 
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

Ch 23

 

Remy avoided the feral for the rest of the day, struggling with his thoughts over their earlier conversation.  Was the older man admitting love for him?  It seemed difficult for Remy to grasp, given his luck with that particular emotion.  But he couldn’t deny the genuine feelings he felt from the man when they made love, and now on the day after.  The bigger question was how did he feel about the feral?  The Cajun rubbed his eyes at the answer and sighed.  He loved the man, pure and simple.  Though it was confusing as to exactly when he fell for the Canadian, the depth of his feelings for the larger male was no mystery.  It was total and absolute.  And it scared him beyond all measure. 

 

Avoiding Logan proved to be a simple task; Jubilee keeping the man occupied most of the day with some mundane task.  But taking company with other members of the team was not high on his agenda, especially after the looks and emotions he received from them.  Worthington, in particular, seemed to have a newfound disdain for the Cajun, sneering in open hostility when Remy entered the same room.  The British bombshell by his side gave Remy knowing smirks and it was quite obvious that she too had been privy to the private moments between himself and Logan earlier in the day, apparently sharing the juicy gossip with everyone within earshot. 

 

Remy smothered his irritation with the woman for publicly announcing what should have stayed private, and simply grinned at the feathered mutant before sauntering from the room.  As soon as he cleared the door, however, his frown returned full force and he scurried to find someplace relatively isolated from the rest of the group for the remainder of the day.  More than the accusatory or curious stares, the emotions from everyone were wearing heavy on him.  Despite the continued strength of his shields in protecting his mind from prying telepaths, his ability to block out the feelings of others was rapidly failing.  It was beginning to influence his actions, just as he knew it would, in turn, influence the actions of others.  His ‘charm’ had always been an unpredictable gift or curse that he lacked control over, even before the shielding barriers were removed; sometimes working to his benefit and, at other times, causing a disadvantage.  Remy shuddered as he recalled the first time it had affected Creed.  Though he lacked formal education, Remy realized why this was happening.  All the years the blocks had been in place, leashing his empathy, meant that his shields never had the chance to naturally adjust and grow to the added talent, which would have allowed the protection he would need as the power grew with age.  And he wondered yet again if his master was aware of that little side effect.

 

Second guessing a decision made years ago was pointless.  What he needed was to limit his exposure to the group, and thus the influence of their emotions on him.  If he didn’t distance himself soon and give himself time to rebuild resistance, the influence of the foreign emotions swirling through his body would cause him to lash out in violence at anyone in reach, or drive him insane.  At the moment, he wasn’t sure which result would be preferable.  He remembered a lounge area complete with couch and television between the changing rooms on the lower level; a place that seemed to be setup to allow members of the team to rest and relax between Danger Room sessions.  A detour through the kitchen to grab some snacks and he was headed towards the little refuge, secure in the thought that he wouldn’t be disturbed.  No sessions had been planned that day as everyone was busy with various improvement projects or their own personal hobbies.     

 

It was uncertain how much time had passed as he watched various programs and movies on the large plasma screen.  The emotions of all the team members several floors up and within the med lab down the hall, though muted slightly through distance, were still a buzz vibrating through his body, similar to the feel of mosquitoes humming annoyingly around his ears.  It took effort to ignore; the desire to swat at the source of his irritation and prickling skin strong in its intensity.  Instead, he forced himself to spend much of his time once again contemplating the worth of the man that owned this place.  Xavier must have been worth quite a few billion to afford such extravaganzas as he had seen in the months since his initial arrival at the mansion.  The two air craft in the underground hangars alone were worth millions.  Perhaps that was why the blonde haired heir to Worthington Enterprises spent much of his time in this place – to garner some type of business partnership with the older man.  The mutant known as Angel puzzled Remy.  He was unsure why the golden boy of the financial world held a specific dislike for a small time thief as himself.  A sudden depression enveloped him at the thought of being an inconsequential thief.  There had been a time when he was a prince of thieves, a master’s master in the trade, capable of stealing the most guarded and valued of prizes. 

 

Remy was so wrapped in his own thoughts, doing his best to distract himself from the growing desire to yank his hair out in clumps in an attempt to relieve the pressure building within, that he failed to immediately notice another presence in the room.  His feelings of depression seemed to intensify, followed strongly by a sense of determination and an overpowering touch of lust.  He blinked, slowly, and turned his gaze to the warm body that plopped down at the other end of the couch.

 

“Hey, sugah” Rogue crooned, staring at him with a purpose in her eyes.  “Whatcha doing down here, all by yor lonesome?”

 

Her feelings rolled over him, making it difficult to think, and he swallowed hard before responding.  “Not'ing...I mean, watchin’ TV.”

 

A cursory glance towards the unit, then her green eyes flickered back to him as she drew herself up on her knees and slowly began to shuffle her way towards him.  “Really?  Anything good?”

 

“N-Non” he stammered, watching her warily as she made her approach to his end of the couch.  He clenched his fists, desperate to keep hold of his mind as the churn of alien emotions slowly overtook his ability to reason.  “What you doing, Rogue?” he whispered as his vision blurred.

 

She reached forward and plucked the remote from his lap to turn off the screen, long slender fingers grazing slightly across his thigh and sending a shiver through his body.  Remy closed his eyes for a moment as powerful feelings not his own began to take over him, dictating the actions of his body.   “I’ve been thinkin’ about ya lately, Cajun.” She purred.  “Thinkin’ that I’d like to get ta know ya better.”  She inched her way closer on her knees, moving into his personal space.  “But ya don’t like ta tell anyone anything about yorself.  That don’t seem rightly fair, seeing how ya seem to know all about us.”  A momentary surge of jealous anger slammed into him, making him gasp, and he barely heard her mutter “especially Logan.”

 

She reached him then, knees pressing hard into his thigh, as she braced one arm on the back of the couch behind his head and the other hand on the arm of the couch to trap him.  He could feel all of her turmoil, all of her fears – her inexperience and uncertainty in this moment – as well as her hopes – to find someone to love her as deeply as she loved.  But love was not on her mind with the Cajun, a fact not lost on Remy as he struggled to block everything out.  He could feel the coil of energy tingling in the tips of his fingers as his fragile control began to slip. 

 

“Don’ do dis” Remy pleaded as she continued to lean toward him.  He was at a loss, paralyzed by her overwhelming desires.

 

But she ignored him, sure in the belief that what she was doing was right.  “Just a kiss, Cajun” she murmured as she descended the remaining space and softly pressed her lips to his in a lingering chaste-like kiss, waiting for the pull to begin.  She determined she wouldn’t take much, just enough to report to Scott if the boy was a threat or not.

 

But, nothing happened.  The expected drain didn’t come and her green eyes snapped open to catch equally confused red.  They stared at each other in shock for a moment, until something snapped and Remy’s eyes narrowed in anger.  No longer rational in thought, he grabbed her arms and pushed her over until her back landed on the couch cushions with a thump.  Pressing down, he laid his full body weight on her and attacked her mouth in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue past her lips.  She was too stunned to do more than submit to his assault.  One skilled hand plunged into the waist band of her pants, and he thrust the tips of two experienced fingers into her tight virginal heat, eliciting a gasp of pain and surprise from her that he quickly swallowed.  As the tips thrust in and out of her passage, the lower portions of the fingers rubbed rhythmically at the pleasure nub hidden between her moist folds.  She arched unconsciously into the touch, her hands fisting in his shirt, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.  As he continued to plunder her mouth, his other hand slid under her shirt to the edge of her bra, lifting the cup over her left breast and exposing the supple flesh of her nipple to his talented fingers.  He squeezed and caressed until the nipple rose to full attention, jutting wantonly through the fabric of her shirt.  He left her mouth then and moved to suckle the point through the material. 

 

“Nnnn...st...unn” she moaned, needing this to end, wanting it to last.  Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, harsh pants that were quickly devoured with the return invasion of his tongue.  He relished in the sounds she made, driving her full force towards an ultimate high.  She could feel the outline of his arousal pressed against her thigh, like steel, and she shuddered in pleasured pain.  Desperately, her body wanted to feel that length thrusting within, mimicking the movements of his tongue.  But another part of her was terrified, wanting to push him away, before she lost something precious to a total stranger.

 

Remy could feel her struggle, her desire, and wanted her badly.  He wanted to fuck her into the couch, break through that barrier and take the sweet prize of her first time.  But a demanding voice in the back of his mind broke through his anger-driven lust and kept him from completely crossing the dark boundaries that he already skirted.  No matter how angry or horny, he did not truly want to damage her. 

 

The rhythm increased, moisture building within her walls as the fingers continued to thrust and rub.  Rogue was no stranger to masturbation, but pleasuring herself could in no way compare to being pleasured by another.  The feeling of heated skin against her own, a foreign taste on her tongue, and the weight of another body on top of her was more than she could bear and she arched violently against him as she came, every muscle within her body tensing as the orgasmic spasms rippled through her.  He swallowed her cry of ecstasy, even as he continued to pump her.  After a few moments, though, the touch of his hands in the nest of her womanhood was too much, the area being much too sensitive in the wake of her release.  She more actively pushed him away and he finally relented, removing his hand from her pants and shirt and sitting back on his heels to look at her as she pushed herself into a sitting position in the corner of the couch.  She was trembling from both sated desire and fear.  The fear, more than anything, was enough to penetrate the fog of his mind and help him regain control of himself.  It took all of Remy’s strength to ignore the unfulfilled ache in his own groin.  He would not take her today. 

 

Her breathing still harsh, she willed her body to calm itself as she stared up at him.  Remy’s eyes fairly glowed with anger and lust as he brought his two fingers to his nose.  Red orbs stared intently at her as she watched him inhale deeply, knowing what he smelled and shivering with renewed desire.  “You smell sweet, belle.”  Remy then moved his fingers to his mouth, suckling and making sure she could see his tongue lave the digits.  “Mmmm, taste like a cherry.” He leered suggestively.  Her pupils dilated and she wrapped her one arm about her, the other arm grasping the opposite shoulder to conceal her chest.  Emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears at him, before she bowed her head and brought her knees up to her chest. 

 

Ruby eyes continued to bore into her a few tense filled moments before he spoke again, the irritation clear in his harsh tone.  “Never rely solely on your power, girl.  Assume dere always someone out dere can find a way ‘round it, and best you.  And don’ play a game you don’ unnerstand.  Some men might not be as nice ‘bout it as me.”  With that, he stood up and walked unsteadily to the door, seemingly drunk on the mass of twirling emotions coursing through him.  Pausing at the threshold to glance back at her through the fall of his auburn locks, she was the absolute picture of a tortured soul – guilt, pleasure, anger, desire, need and shame pouring off of her.  And just like that his anger melted away, leaving him tired.  Of course she wouldn’t know the game she had played.  She was sexually inexperienced, only recently crossing that magical age that separates a girl from a woman; a woman with little prospect of gaining said experience if she didn’t learn to control her powers, he reminded himself.  And he had taken advantage of that to win this little power struggle.  Was he really so different from those predators that had done the same to him as a boy?  He was suddenly nauseous at the thought.  But, despite his own misgivings and need to comfort her, he remained hardened with his next words.  There was a lesson to be learned here, one that was as much for his own sake as hers.  “Whet’er you be woman...OR man, no means no.  Don’ forget dat.”

 

Remy fled to the roof, using the wind rider’s loft window to launch himself and scale the remaining wall that led to a steeple edge.  Cigarettes appeared and disappeared in a steady stream as the Cajun sucked through them, butts littering the shingled area around him as the evening passed into the deep darkness of night.  He didn’t blow up the remnants as he usually would, fearing discovery if he used his kinetic powers.  Briefly, he wondered if anyone had missed him at supper.  He exhaled more slowly a lungful of smoke, the pack nearly exhausted and his nerves barely calmed as he decided it didn’t matter.  He wasn’t in any condition to deal with them or the bombardment of foreign feelings, especially after what had happened in the recreation room. 

 

The stars twinkled brilliantly in the night sky, like a smattering of diamonds across rich black velvet.  It was awe inspiring as he stared wide-eyed at the sight, feeling insignificant and small.  Within the city proper, only a fraction of the heavenly bodies could normally be seen, specifically the ones directly overhead and unaffected by the obscuring reach of man-made lights.  But on this estate, far from the reaches of brash obnoxious neon colors, the bright natural shine of numerous wonders littered the vast dark expanse, easily drawing forth the dreamer within even the most bitter of souls.  But, Gambit didn’t feel like waxing poetic this night.  He was too wound up, as tight as a bow string and as fidgety as a junkie at the end of a three day high.  The array of emotions swirling around and within threatened to take his sanity – he knew they weren’t all his, but he felt helpless to block them out.  He needed to get away and be around something a little more simple, something innocent and sweet to shore him up and keep the darkness at bay.  He needed to visit the children of the Morlock clan.  Lighting another stick from his dwindling supply of cigarettes, he inhaled deeply and rested his chin on his knees, arms circling around his legs as he watched the moon drag slowly across the sea of night sky.  When the time was right, he would raid the kitchen and make his way into the city.

 

******

 

Logan didn’t bother knocking as he stepped into Scott’s office with a scowl on his face.  The anger he felt for the team leader from their confrontation that morning had not dissipated and he was in no mood to receive another lecture regarding his actions as a role model.  He had also missed the boy all day, having been tied up with some silly project for Jubilee’s coursework, and was irritated that the Cajun failed to show for dinner.  Not for the first time this day, he wondered if the boy was having second thoughts about a relationship.  Logan may have been an older man, with many years of living behind him, but that didn’t make him any more secure about his looks or ability to be desired by another person.  As much as he hated dealing with crap he felt was more appropriate for a love struck teenager, he was also gratified to have that aspect of humanity just as any other normal individual would have.  But those thoughts and feelings had no place at the forefront of his mind at the moment.  He ruthlessly pushed it aside and plopped his bulky mass into the leather wingback chair in front of the other man’s desk, a glare firmly in place for Cyclop’s benefit.

 

Scott frowned at the man as he heard the chair creak and groan under the weight.  Why couldn’t the feral enter his office and take a seat in an appropriate, respectful manner like everyone else?  “Is that really necessary?” he sighed in exasperation. 

 

“I’m here like ya asked.  What the hell else do ya want?” Logan spat, pulling out a cigar and lighting it in the man’s presence just to piss him off.

 

Scott started to reprimand the older man on the no smoking rules in the house, but then closed his mouth and clenched his jaws instead.  Sometimes he needed to pick his battles.  He took a deep breath and lowered the papers he had been holding in his hands.  “I called you here to talk about Gambit.”

 

The feral had figured as much, but it didn’t stop the guttural growl that managed to escape his throat.  “What about him?”

 

“He’s been stealing food and leaving the premises with it.”  Scott said blandly.

 

With a blank look on his face, Logan leaned back in the chair and gave his leader an impassive gaze.  “Yeh, so?”

 

The older man hadn’t denied the accusation, though Scott really had no proof other than a speculation made by the sensitive nose of the good doctor.  It made the team leader see a greater hue of red behind his protective lenses.  Logan had already known what Scott only suspected.  Again Scott’s jaw clenched with the effort to contain an angry outburst.  “So I need you to follow him and find out what’s going on, what else he may be stealing and hiding from us.” 

 

Inhaling deeply, Logan blinked slowly, before expelling a plume of smoke in the tense air between them.  “I ain’t his fucking baby-sitter.”

 

“No, but you’re his fuck buddy, aren’t you?  That makes you responsible for him.” Scott blurted with venom, standing and leaning his weight on the fingertips pressing down on the top of his table.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott knew he was overreacting – that his emotions were out of control from his exhaustion and the link to his hormonal wife, but at the moment he was too angry with the feral to give a damn.  “Or do you even want to know the stranger you’re screwing?”  He immediately winced at the sudden sharp pain that pierced his mind, his emotionally volatile wife slicing through him with a mental slap. 

 

The feral continued to sit in the chair and stare heatedly at the younger man, his body tensed and coiled to spring like a tiger stalking prey.  This was the second time in less than twenty four hours that the boy in front of him had questioned his honor in a clearly challenging posture.  The massive bulk trembled under the sheer iron will it took for Logan to keep his inner nature from making that final deadly move to take out the perceived enemy in his sights.  He clawed at his thighs to keep his hands from clenching and releasing the six deadly blades that were itching to come out.  After a few minutes, he felt he could finally control his voice enough to speak, though it was low and dangerous.  “Say something like that again, and I’ll cut yer vocal cords out and shove ‘em up yer ass, ya piece of shit.”

 

Scott swallowed hard and blinked behind his visor.  Why had he said that to the man?  He wasn’t even sure himself.  He thought he had put all his animosity for the feral behind him.  But his emotions were all over the place.  Jean was affecting him more than he cared to admit, this pregnancy being hard on the both of them.  And something about this boy, how Logan reacted to him, stirred all those past feelings to the surface, exposing them like a raw nerve.  The younger man deflated at his sudden insight, falling back into his chair with a deep sigh and dropping his head in his hand.  “I’m sorry, Logan.  That was uncalled for.”

 

Logan wasn’t quite ready to let it go, struggling himself to slow his heart rate and stand down from threat status.  “Yer damn right it was.” 

 

Long, powerful fingers lifted the protective lenses from the leader’s eyes, causing Logan to tense again in anticipation.  But, he forced himself to relax as those digits began to massage an apparent headache.  The feral couldn’t help but smirk at what might have caused that, taking a mental note to thank Jean later.  “This isn’t how I wanted to meet with you, Logan.  I don’t know what the hell is wrong.  There’s just something about that boy, something that’s stirring up all these old issues between us.”  Cyclops looked up at the man across the table from him, one side of his mouth twitching into a self-deprecating smile.  “Well, maybe not for you.  It’s my problem.  I...I think I’m just shattered.  I know that’s not really an excuse, but with Washington, and the pregnancy, and the new recruit...well, things are affecting me more than usual.”

 

“I already knew about the food, Cyke.  Didn’t think it was that big a deal.  Told him he could have as much as he wants.”  Logan defended.  He continued to watch the team leader, as the younger man rubbed his temples.  It was obvious Scott had been under a great deal of stress; too much perhaps.  With the visor raised and the younger man’s lids closed, it was easier to see the bruising under the eyes from lack of sleep.  Maybe he could let Scott’s attitude go this time.  Logan closed his own eyes and took a deep breath.  “It’s not that big a deal.” He said neutrally.

 

Slipping the visor back in place, Scott glanced up at the older man, sensing Logan’s acceptance of his apology in the tone of the older man’s voice.  He sighed before continuing.  “I understand what you’re saying.  But, I’d still feel better if we knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing with the supplies.”

 

Irritation at the younger man bloomed again and Logan stood.  “Fine, I’ll follow him and find out what he’s doing.  But if it turns out to be nothin’ detrimental to the group, I want ya to leave us both the hell alone.  Got it?”  He didn’t wait for an answer, merely turning on his heal and heading for the door.  He paused at the threshold, but didn’t look back as he heard Scott call after him.

 

“We can’t save everyone, Logan.  No matter how much we want to.”

 

Logan snorted and slammed the door after him. 

 

**********

End ch 23


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See warnings and disclaimers in first chapter. Reminder - I don't know French or Cajun French, so my apologies to people of those areas if I butchered the language in this fic. If I put any in this fic, it came from online translators and Louisiana library archives. I also don't know Spanish, the use of which came from online translators.
> 
> Because this is an AU, some of the characters in this story may seem OOC.

Another midnight raid on the X-men stocks, to yield enough food for Kale and the others to last at least a week, found Remy in the pantry loading up a sack.  And though he was doing his very best to remain stealthy, he couldn’t help the bangs and crashes as he loaded up his bag.  The whole room was cluttered with foodstuffs and it was obvious they had recently made a run to the local grocery.  As he stepped over two large sacks of something he suspected were flour, he shifted his weight too soon onto the leading foot and suddenly lost his balance as said foot landed on some kind of wheeled flatbed cart.  Arms flailing to the side, his back landed with a thud against the wall behind him and one hand fell flat against the flat button light switch.  To the opposite side of the switch, a panel that had been flush with the rest of the wall swung open revealing an inner hidden compartment. 

Remy froze and cocked his head to one side, straining to hear if his lapse in grace had alerted any team members to his presence.  Several tense minutes later, he gave a silent thanks for the thick insulation in which the professor had obviously invested in the pantry; most likely to keep the smell of food from tempting the two resident bloodhounds – Logan and Hank.  Straightening himself, Remy stared at the opening for a moment.  At first, he chided himself.  “How I not notice dat before?  Feh…some master t’ief I be.”  As he moved to stand in front of the compartment, his mouth fell open and soon all thoughts left his mind except one.  “Mon Dieu” he breathed.  It was the mother lode.  There were chocolate bars, twinkies, lollipops, hard candies, and just about every kind of sweet treat Remy had ever seen.  A smile spread across his face as his thoughts turned to the Morlock children, and just how popular he would be tonight!

Over the months he had been staying at the mansion, Remy had learned a few tricks to packing supplies and food stuffs for his occasional motorcycle rides to the Morlock tunnels.  Ever vigilant, he had on one particular afternoon relieved one of the children of a backpack that had been obviously discarded by the backdoor trash bins.  It was this very pack that he pulled from one of his duster pockets and unfolded to fill to capacity with as much sugar-filled treats as he could stuff within the fabric walls.  Once that was completed, he stepped back from the opening and pressed the light switch mechanism again; grinning as the panel closed and sealed flush with the wall.  He hoped it might be days before they realized some of their secret stash was missing.   With a little luck, they would think some of the team members had indulged themselves.  After all, that blue bulk of a doctor and the popsicle kid had been very vocal about their sweet teeth on more than one occasion.  Backpack secured over both shoulders, he grabbed the bag of non-perishable items he had packed earlier and headed for the garage with his bounty firmly in hand.

The ride to the city was uneventful, though more than once Remy caught himself glancing in the side mirror for something.  Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, giving him the feeling he was being followed, but nothing ever appeared in his rear view.  Remy frowned as he turned down the alley and brought the bike to rest.  Removing the helmet, he twisted in his seat and waited a few minutes with eyes scanning the entrance to the alley.  Tentatively, he reached out with his powers to see if someone was there, but immediately pulled back as too many feelings from various humans in the area assaulted him at once.  There was too much emotional static, too much interference to lock onto any one source, and it was giving him a headache to even try.  Nothing but a soft sigh escaped him as he dismounted and rubbed unconsciously at his temple.  He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, how much longer he would be able to successfully block the onslaught of other’s feelings.  _/Not dat I be effectively blocking dem now_ / he noted sourly as he recalled his earlier lapse of control with Rogue.  And yet, there was nothing he could do about it until the assignment was completed.  It felt like he was drowning, the darkness of insanity closing in on his mind with no safety net in place.  But he wouldn’t go down without a fight, he just needed to work harder on his shields.  And though being around the underground dwellers for any length of time would be as draining on him as being around the X-men, the innocent and harmless feelings that flowed from the children was always a welcome reprieve.  Firm resolve in place, he flexed the muscles in his jaw and steeled himself as he entered the tunnels. 

The smell and overwhelming darkness of the tunnels always took a minute of adjustment.  Despite his enhanced night vision, even his light sensitive eyes could not always penetrate the veil of black; reducing his vision to not more than a few inches in front of him.  With practiced ease, he whipped out a comforting card and held it between the bared skin of his thumb and forefinger where the portions of his glove had been cut away, bringing a glow to the surrounding area that allowed him to walk safely; overstepping pools of tainted water in his path.  He absolutely refused to touch the slime encrusted walls, even with his glove covered fingers.  At an intersection of two opposing tunnels, he paused.  The skin on the back of his neck prickled, making him feel as if he were being watched.  Remy didn’t bother turning to see.  Even with keen eyesight, there was no way he would be able to penetrate the deep shadows beyond the edge of the artificially cast light of his glowing card. 

Logan had been trailing the boy, always keeping out of sight and needing no light to help him find his way.  But he halted in his step when he saw the light from the boy ahead of him stop bobbing, a sure sign that the body holding the light was no longer moving.  He knew the kid had sensitive eyes that allowed him to see in the dark much better than most humans, but he wasn’t sure if the Cajun could see him in the cloaking shadows of the tunnels.  Logan willed the other man not to turn his way and held his breath. 

Remy strained to listen for any out of place noises, but all he could hear was the trickling of the water as it dripped to the floor and the dull drumming of his heart in his ears.  Periodically, there were the faint squeaks and scrapping of rodents making their way along piping and narrow ledges.  Tentatively, he lowered his shields and let himself simply feel.  Logan stood frozen in wait when he felt something nudging at the fringes of his awareness.  It wasn’t the harsh feel of telepathy; that usually felt like icy cold fingers stroking and squeezing, prodding and poking the warm mass of his mind, leaving a freezing shock to every point touched.  This, however, felt different, like warm moist breath blown softly across the surface of skin, tickling the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck.  Whatever talent the boy was using on him, Logan’s mind felt like it was being wrapped gently in downy soft cotton.  As soon as he noticed the touch, however, it was gone and Logan could only hope that his shields had provided some sort of cover from detection. 

Remy pulled back, tightening his hold on his powers as his lips thinned and his brow furrowed in a tight little frown.  So, the feral had followed him.  There was nothing he could do now.  He was committed to the path he had already started, and though he hadn’t wanted to share this particular secret with anyone for fear of endangering the clan, somehow he didn’t feel angry at the older man’s imminent discovery.  Instead, it seemed a relief that it was one less secret he kept from his lover.  As the tension bled out of his body with that realization, he continued forward, never looking back or acknowledging the feral’s presence.  Logan smirked as he watched the glowing card begin to bob again, indicating the Cajun’s movements.  He slowly released the breath he had been holding, assuming that he had not been discovered.

No sooner had Remy made it to the main cavern than he was assaulted from all sides by the very children he sought.  “REMY! REMY!” many of them laughed and screamed in unison as they tackled him in their excitement. 

“Where you been?”

“We missed you.”

“Why’re you wearing a purse on your back?”

“What’s that in your hand?”

“Make something else glow, Remy!”

“Come see the drawing I made.”

“Can I have this pack of cards?”

“These glasses are cool!”

“Take us for a ride, Remy, pleeeeeeeaaaaassssseee...”

“What you bring us?”

The questions came back-to-back as little hands dove into his pockets.  Remy chuckled and slipped the backpack from his shoulders, letting it land with a thud at his feet as he pulled back the ties.  “I brought y’all a special treat.  Mas first, y’all been good for your folks?”

Several mops of hair nodded together as they stared down at the bag with wide, anticipating eyes.  Remy smiled warmly, soaking up the excitement and general giddiness of the kids, before dumping the contents of the bag on the floor.  It was a balm on his tortured mind, lifting him from a depression that had been steadily building since earlier in the day.  His smile grew even wider as he heard the collective gasp right before all of the kids yelled “CANDY!!!!!!” and dived into the pile.

Looking around as the children snatched and grabbed an assortment of goodies, Remy’s smile slipped a little as he noticed someone missing.  He picked up a few pieces of chocolate candy, slipping them in his pocket before they were taken, and then asked one of the kids where Krystal was.  “She’s hidin’ cause she did sumd’ing bad.” The child responded before turning his attention back to the pile.  The smile gone now and frown in place, Remy stepped around the group and headed towards the back of the small complex, looking for Kale and Rosa.

*****

Kale looked up from where he sat hugging his wife, sad eyes lighting only slightly at the appearance of his friend.  “Ah, Remy!  We didn’t know you were coming tonight or we would have prepared something for you to eat.”  He started to stand, but Remy’s hand halted him.   
  


“Non, Kale, t’anks.  I already ate.  Mas, I brought some more food for de clan.”  Remy laid the full bag on the floor, beside the cloth covered entrance to their small makeshift dwelling, and glanced around.  “Where Krystal at?  Brought some candy for de lil’ uns.”

It was this question that finally made Rosa look up at the Cajun, her eyes puffy and red from the crying she had obviously been doing.  Her traumatic emotions were strong and sliced through Remy like razor ribbon, bringing back the darkness that had been driven away only moments earlier.  “Oh Remy, nuestra niña……nuestra niña” she cried, burying her head back in her husband’s chest. 

Alarmed, Remy turned his attention to his friend.  “Quoi ça dit, bougre?”  When Kale only stared at him confused, he realized he had reverted to Cajun French.  “What’s going on?  Where Krystal at?”

Kale was whispering encouragement to his wife, stroking her hair and back, but turned to Remy once again, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears over his distraught wife and child.  “Krystal, she’s gone to her special spot on the roof and doesn’t want anyone around her.  I tried to talk to her, but she was too upset and told me to leave her alone.  I thought it best to give her some time alone while I attended to the clan’s needs.”  He pointedly looked at the top of his wife’s head before turning back toward the Cajun.  “One of the other adults is watching her from the shadows just inside the doorway, to make sure she stays safe.”    

There was a plea in his eyes for understanding and help, but Remy was still lost on exactly what the problem was.  Gritting his teeth, he asked his question again.  “Tell me what happened, Kale.”

Kale sighed as he continued to rub his wife’s back, her sobs a muffled noise in the background.  “Krystal came into her powers.”  Remy waited patiently, willing the man to continue before he shook the answers from his friend in exasperation.  “She found this puppy in the tunnels.  I told her we couldn’t keep it, couldn’t afford to feed it.  But, all the kids were so excited when they found out and she was giving me those soulful eyes.  You know the ones I’m talking about, right?”  Kale smiled slightly at the tall young man in front of him, watching as Remy snorted softly in agreement.  “Yes, well, I couldn’t make her get rid of him, so I let the puppy stay.  But, earlier, she was playing with the dog...she named it Remy by the way.”  Remy blinked.  He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted at having his name associated with a dog.  “She had her hands around its head, scratching its ears, when all the sudden her powers kicked in.”  Kale looked sadly at Remy again, tears beginning to fall now.  “She’s a morpher, Remy.”

Remy’s brows drew together.  “A...what?” 

“A morpher.  A changling, like me.  Only it looks like her power to shape shift comes from touching.  Unlike me, she mimics living things.”  His lips thinned.  “And that change comes from drawing the life force of the thing she’s touching.”  Kale turned his eyes to the floor.  “I managed to get her to let go of the puppy before she completely changed.  But we’re not sure the shift isn’t permanent, because those parts of her that did change to the puppy’s form haven’t changed back.”

Remy slowly closed his eyes.  This was bad.  As old as she had been without coming into her powers, he had hoped that she would be spared from anything form-altering that might prevent her from living above ground.  “And...and de puppy?”

Kale simply looked at Remy a moment before shaking his head and placing a kiss on his wife’s head at her renewed bout of crying.  The Cajun let out a deep, shuddering breath and lowered his head.  “Ok.  I’ll talk to her.”

Kale reached out and grabbed Remy’s arm as the young man turned to leave.  “You heard me?  When I said her power’s activated by touch?”  The fall of auburn hair hid the Cajun’s expression, but he didn’t answer the Morlock leader.  “Remy...my baby...she may never be able to touch another person ever again.”  Kale choked on a sob at the thought of never being able to hold his baby girl in his arms, kiss her cheek when tucking her in bed at night.  

The pain was overwhelming, bringing tears to Remy’s own eyes.  “Oui, Kale.  Remy be careful, non?”  He struggled a smile in place for his friend, and then turned to leave them in their anguish.

He made his way back through the makeshift township, ignored for the most part by the other members of the clan as they worked to round up the morass of children on a sugar high.  He was grateful to make his way back down the tunnels away from the overload of extreme emotions.  He had come here to lighten his spirits, but the joy of the children warred with the anguish of two parents, and the polar opposite feelings threatened to rip him apart.  It was only as he neared the access hatch back to the alley that he realized Logan had not been waiting in the tunnels.  Possibly the man was already topside, hiding in the shadows to continue spying.  But at the moment, Remy couldn’t be bothered.  He had a child to find.

Emerging from the tunnels was always a relief, despite the sour stench of the alley.  How the clan survived in the stale air of the tunnels was beyond Remy.  The building on the left side of the alley rose up seven stories - a dilapidated, abandoned and condemned piece of brick and mortar that had seen better days.  Hands on hips, Remy stared up towards the roof, eyeing the fire escape stairway with interest, debating for a moment whether to simply take the stairs within the building itself.  Iron steps had rusted and broken away in places, leaving large gaping holes that dared the nimblest of acrobats to traverse them.  With a smirk and a slight adrenaline rush, Remy took that dare and made the climb.  It was nothing for him to leap several feet to the ladder, or flip from a handstand from one step to the landing high above, crossing over wide open spaces where metal had broken off.  The stairs made a grinding sound, periodically grating and groaning in protest of holding weight for the first time in so many years.  All too quickly and without breaking a sweat, he reached the top, slipping over the ledge and heaving a satisfied sigh as he turned his attention to the little figure in the far corner of the roof.  The exercise had eased and calmed him from the plethora of negative emotions that had enveloped him within the clan’s living quarters, and it placed him in a better mindset to cheer up the sweet little girl that was his favorite of the Morlock children.    

With cat-like stealth he approached to within a few feet of her, trying to see what changes had been made to her little body before alerting her to his presence.  Her hair was caught up into two ponytails, one on each side of her head.  With her haired pulled into bands, he could immediately see the beginnings of fur at the nape of her neck.  Closing his eyes, he let himself feel her and nearly staggered from the onslaught of sadness and depression radiating from the child.  He also noted the feral’s confusion somewhere behind him, but he couldn’t deal with the man at this moment.  Steeling himself, he gently called out to her.

“Krystal?” 

The gasp was almost not contained in his throat as he fought to keep it trapped within, making sure that his face was carefully neutral as his eyes took in the sight of her.  The ear on her right side, as she turned to face him, flopped and slapped against the side of her head.  It was wide and bent forward, blunted around the edge with soft golden fur.  Her nose did not protrude into a snout, but was obviously headed for that shape.  It was black and wet, triangular shaped with whiskers coming out both sides.  Her left eye was a different color than her right and there were tufts of golden fur at the front of her neck as well.  When she opened her mouth in surprise, Remy could see two canine teeth in her upper row.  Obviously the puppy had been a type of retriever mix breed.  The ache in his tight chest intensified at the forlorn look in her eyes; the streaming tears.  “Hey, padnat.”  It was all he could think to say.

“Remy!” she wailed before launching herself at him.  As she was about to embrace him, though, she stopped and let her arms fall limply to her sides, her head bowing.  “Remy.” She sobbed pitifully and returned to the ledge she had previously occupied.

Chewing his bottom lip, Remy took a moment to breathe before joining her, sitting next to her with his legs dangling over the edge.  “Whatcha doin’ up here all alone, petit?  Y’know your parents be a bit worried.”

Krystal sniffed and brought the back of what Remy could see as a half formed paw with a human pinky and thumb to wipe her eye.  “I killed Remy.”

Gambit grimaced at her phrasing, still unsure about sharing his name with a dog.  “I know, chere.  It weren’t your fault.”

“But if I haddin’t a touched him, he wouldn’t be dead.” She sobbed.

“Mebbe.  Mebbe non.”  Remy stared up at the night sky, seeing a few stars overhead.  He understood why she loved this spot.  This area of the city tended to be darker at night, lacking the bustling and glowing neon lights seen in more populated and prosperous parts.  The building, though condemned, was one of the taller structures around and it made the heavens above stand out more.  “Mas, you didn’t do it on purpose.  And, I s’pose dat puppy was mighty happy you loved him, neh?”  He turned his head and looked down at her tearful, swollen eyes and smiled.  “You done a good t’ing, givin’ him happiness and a home when he had none.”  Wistful ruby orbs turned their gaze back towards the sky.  “Everyone wants someone to love dem.”

“But, how can I love anyone again?”  She sniffled again.  “I can’t touch nothing no more.”

“Ah, belle.  Dere more to lovin’ dan touch.  ‘sides, who say you can’t touch no more?”  Mindful of his discovery earlier in the day with a mutant with similar powers, he slowly leaned down and tenderly kissed her forehead, lips lingering to make her gasp and flinch at the contact.  When nothing happened, she stared at him in awe as he pulled back and gave her a lop-sided grin.  A shaky paw hand reached up and cupped his cheek, soulful round eyes widening the longer her hand remained.  “How?” she whispered.

There was a slight shrug from the Cajun, more a lifting of one shoulder that broke the contact as he turned again to watch the stars.  “Dunno.  Guess it have somet’ing to do wit’ my powers.”  From the corner of his eye, he watched her lower the deformed appendage and stare at it.  He couldn’t resist throwing his arm across her shoulder and pulling her against his side.  “You can still touch, petit.  Just hafta be more careful ‘bout it, non?  Not everyone got powers like Remy.”  

Krystal sniffled and leaned into the embrace, turning her gaze to the sky above as well.  “Yeh.  Daddy said when I grow up, maybe I can control it so I don’t hurt no one else.”  The fingers on her normal hand absently stroked the patches of fur that had formed on the back of the other during the transformation, when she suddenly gasped.  “Look!  A shooting star!  Daddy says you can make a wish when you see one and it’ll come true.  But I don’t believe that no more.”

Remy stroked one of her ponytails as he watched the light zip across the sky as fast as a blink of the eye.  “Lemme tell you a story, petit’.  Once upon a time, dere was dis man who made a boy doll out o’ wood.  He was a good man, but he was so lonely.  So one night, dis fairy come along and she gave de little wood boy life.”

“That’s silly, Remy.” Krystal snorted.

“Hush, girl.  Remy tryin’ to tell a story.  Now, de little wood boy – he dance around and make de ol’ man so happy.  Called de man his poppa.  Now, more dan anyt’ing, de little wood boy wanted to be normal, like a real boy.  But, he was always gettin’ inta trouble, causin’ problems for his ol’ man.”  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Krystal became engrossed in the tale.  Remy struggled to recall all the details of the story, and outright made up some parts as he told it.  “So anyways, when he was at his saddest, he had dis little cricket friend.”  He turned towards the girl with a lop-sided grin.  “His name was Johnny.  Johnny de cricket.”  

From his spot in the shadow of the roof access, Logan smirked as he listened to the boy tell the story wrong and misname the characters.  But it didn’t matter, it was obvious the girl didn’t know the story of Pinocchio anyway; thinking the story was some fantastic tale her sweet Remy made up for her instead.  He resisted the urge to shift his weight and interrupt their conversation as he continued to listen to the melodic voice of the boy.  The words flowed from the Cajun’s mouth, easing over both of them and soothing them like a warm bath, as muscles relaxed under the hypnotic tones.  He recognized the same talent he had felt in the tunnels and marveled at the calming effect it seemed to be having over the child as well as himself.  “...and dat’s when de little cricket told de boy ‘bout wishing on a star.”

“What he say?” Krystal asked in wide-eyed curiosity.

Remy stared up at the point where the shooting star disappeared and smiled.  “He say dat when you wish on a star, no matter who you are, anyt’ing your heart wants will come true.”  He leaned his cheek to rest on the top of her head.  “And you know what happened den?  De little wood doll wished on de star and he was turned into a real boy and lived happy ever after wit’ his poppa.”

Krystal turned tear-stained cheeks and an odd grin towards those ruby eyes above her.  “That was great!  How come you always know so many stories?”

Remy’s smile faded slightly as he turned away from her, back to the heavens above.  “When Remy was a chil’, he meet lots of adult...friends dat sometimes let Remy spend de night.  If Remy real good, dey let Remy stay up by his self and watch de TV after dey go to sleep.”  He paused for a moment, letting memories wash over him and fade away before turning back to the girl by his side.  “Like to watch de cartoons, me.  Always wished I was part of de show, like a prince or somet’ing.”  

“Did you ever wish you was normal, Remy?”  Her dark brown curls swung gently around her face as she canted her head to look up at him with complete sincerity in her eyes.

The Cajun stared at her for a few moments, then sighed.  “Sometimes, petit.”  He leaned down to kiss her forehead.  “...sometimes.”  Sitting up straight, he gave her a charming, true smile.  “Now, you better go an’ find your pere.  He was mighty worried ‘bout you, padnat.  Besides, de candy man done left a present for you.”  With a gleam of excitement in her eyes, she reached up to kiss him on the cheek before hopping up from her perch and skipping towards the inner stairwell, her heart lighter than when she had first come up to her hiding spot.  

Logan’s heart ached for the little girl as well as the Cajun that held her tight.  He listened as Remy told her a modified version of his life as a child, closing his eyes as his own imagination ran wild.   He was startled from his musings by the sound of Remy’s voice calling him.

“I know you dere.”  Remy called out to the shadows behind him, his gaze still drawn to the stars above.  Logan slinked from his hiding place and sidled up to the Cajun, turning his back to the ledge in order to lean against it.  Remy didn’t look at him.  “Why?”

“Scott ordered me to.”  Logan shrugged.  “He has some trust issues.”  He turned to the Cajun and smirked.  “Stealing food from the pantry ain’t helping yer case, bub.”

Remy chuckled softly.  “And what ‘bout you, Logan?  You got trust issues, too?”

The feral folded his arms across his chest, crossing his ankles as he balanced on the edge.  “Nah, I was just curious.”  He glanced sidelong at the boy before he sighed and shifted his eyes to the door leading back inside the building.  “I think maybe I trust a little too easy.  I take people at face value for the most part, trust in my senses to tell me when a person’s lying.”

Remy arched a brow, as he turned his head to look at the older man.  “Your senses?  You can smell when someone’s lying?” 

Logan snorted.  “Hell no.  It don’t work that way, Cajun.  Honesty or lying – those are intangible things.  Kinda like love an’ hate.  Can’t smell an emotion.”  He lifted his hand to rub at his chin as he continued explaining.  “But a body usually has some kinda physical reaction to them characteristics that a mutant with enhanced senses like me can pick up on.  Like...like elevated breathing, or sweat.  Sometimes it can be smelled.  Sometimes it can be heard.  And sometimes, it’s a very slight physical sign that can be seen.  Over time, ya start puttin’ emotions or feelin’s to these body reactions an’ get pretty good at figurin’ out what’s going on with someone.”

A bark of laughter flew from Remy’s mouth as he threw his head back, startling the older man.  “So, your telling me dat...dat...you just guessing?”  The twinkle of amusement in his eye made Logan grin at the boy.

“Yeh, I guess I am.”  He chortled.   After a few moments, their laughter quieted and Logan grew serious.  “So, now ya know one o’ my secrets.”

“And you know one of mine.” Remy replied, trying to head off any speculation on Logan’s part regarding the need to share any more.    

All was quiet between them for a while as wind blew gently through their hair, lifting and running through the strands like fingers.  Logan stared at the doorway where the little girl had disappeared, while Remy gazed out over the city skyline.  The feral shifted on his perch and cleared his throat.  “She gonna be alright?”

He heard the sigh come from the boy beside him.  “I t’ink.  She’s strong.”

Logan cast a sideways glance at the Cajun.  “I heard ya talking to her.  She’s gotta power like Rogue.  That’s gonna be hard on her.”

Auburn hair fell forward, hiding his eyes as Remy lowered his head.  “Oui.  Mas, de Morlocks will help her.  Dey protective of deir own.”

“That what those mutants in the sewer are called?  Morlocks?”  At the nod he received, he turned his Prussian blue eyes back to the stairway entrance to the building.  “They yer family, Remy?”

“Non,” he whispered, the word nearly lost on the breeze blowing around them across the roof of the building.  “Kale likes to t’ink I’m one of dem, wants me to be part of de clan...” A self-deprecating smile in place, he turned to face the older man.  “...Mas, even among dem, Remy’s ‘Le Diable Blanc’.  Superstition run strong ‘bout humans wit’ red eyes.”  He shrugged and turned away again.  “I care for dem, some more dan ot’ers.  Bring dem food and supplies.”  Shoulders hunched as Remy seemed to fold in on himself, when he asked the next question.  “You gon’ tell de Professor or Scott?”

“Nah,” Logan answered, firm resolve in his voice as he thought about the need to start breaking the boy of his third party speech habit.  “I’ll let Chuck know the food’s going to a good cause and he’ll be happy with that.  One eye can just kiss my ass.”  The unexpected statement had Remy laughing so hard he had to grab the edge of the building to keep from falling over the ledge.  Smiling now that the boy seemed in better spirits, Logan pushed himself up and looked down at the boy.  “C’mon, let’s get back to the mansion, before we’re stuck with early morning monitor duty.”

Remy waved him off.  “Non, you go on ahead.  I’m gonna visit wit’ de lil’uns a bit more.”

“Suit yerself.” Logan replied and left the Cajun as quietly as he had come.  Remy stayed on the roof for a while, giving the feral plenty of time to leave the area before he made his way back to the bike and drove in a different direction, looking for a public payphone that hadn’t yet been vandalized.  It wasn’t necessary to return to the sewers to bid the clan farewell.  Kale and Rosa knew him too well, and the discomfort he felt when around the other adults in the clan.  Noting the time as he pulled up to a booth, Remy dialed the number and waited for his boss to answer.  When the other end of the line connected, there were no initial pleasantries.

“I trust you are calling with some good news for me?” the smooth baritone filtered through the earpiece, sending a shiver down Remy’s spine.

“Non.  Mas, I’m close.” He rushed to get out.  “De files are buried deep and encrypted.  It taking longer dan I t’ought and dey don’ leave me alone long enough to get all de way in.”

“And here I thought you were supposed to be a master thief.” Remy bristled at the insult, but held his tongue as Magneto continued.  “Very well.  If a distraction is what you need to give you time to hack the system, then a distraction is what you’ll have.  Be ready.”  With that, the connection was severed, leaving only the hum of the dial-tone in his ear.  Remy slammed the handset back into the cradle and clenched his jaw, before straddling his bike and heading back to the mansion.

He had a bad feeling that things were about to turn sour.  

 

End ch 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Quoi ça dit, bougre – what’s happening, buddy?  
> nuestra niña – our little girl


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been told that parts of this story were stolen by another writer and used in their story. This other writer also stole from published authors and claimed it as his/her own. Fortunately, the ones who discovered it managed to get this writer and the stories containing plagiarized passages removed from this site as well as fanfiction. net. But, the writer still has it posted on Tumblr. It's unfortunate and sad that someone would do that. So, just wanted to let anyone reading this know that this fic is my own creation. I'm still amazed and have a hard time believing, even after all these years, that I wrote these stories and that they continue to be enjoyed by people *self-deprecating grin* 
> 
> If you're interested, the plagiarism complaints against that person can be found at https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/124913/151163737/1/

When several days had passed without any sign of Magneto, Remy’s anxiety leveled out and he felt a small wave of relief. He knew that eventually the man would do something – after all, Erik had threatened as much in their last conversation. When he told the master of metal that he was close, it wasn’t exactly a lie. Though he had only tried a couple of times to access the computer files, it hadn’t taken him long to get to the files he needed, even with the heavy encryption. The fact that he had not copied those files or tried again to retrieve them was an action that Remy wasn’t ready to analyze.

 

There was a tension in the air regardless. He and Logan came together at night and rode the waves of passion between them, each losing himself in the other until the early morning hours. Always, Remy made sure their couplings took place in Logan’s room, so that he could flee in the midst of post coital bliss, leaving the feral confused with a steadily growing sense of hurt each time. But, Logan didn’t question and simply let the boy go, hoping the Cajun would figure out what he needed from their arrangement. The feral had made it clear that he wanted to explore a relationship with the boy and Remy was, for the first time, at a complete loss on how to deal with a lover. There was also the issue with the Mississippian. She had yet to look him in the eyes whenever they happened in the same room together or over the dinner table among all the other team members. Her discomfort in his presence sent twinges of guilt through him every time. Given the fact that the girl was important to Logan, not to mention the need to ease his own remorse over the actions he had taken with her several nights earlier, Remy decided he needed to sit her down and actually talk about what happened.

 

Such a thing might take place sooner rather than later, he thought uneasily as he made his way to the Professor’s office after being mentally summoned. A growing sense of dread filled him as he saw Rogue step out from Xavier’s office. She glanced up at him, her eyes widening with surprise and wariness before she returned her downcast gaze to the rug beneath her feet. Her emotions attacked him like a ravenous beast, sending wave upon wave of anger, hurt, shame, guilt, lust, confusion – a veritable gamut of feelings that had him seeking out the sturdy walls to his right to steady himself as his knees weakened. It was will-power alone that kept him standing and staring at her as she quickly rushed past, her cheeks blazing a bright flame red and the heat of desire radiating from her. He thought he heard her murmur an apology as she skirted around him, but the ringing in his ears, as his head swam under the onslaught, made all sound fuzzy. Remy tried some of the techniques the Professor and Logan had been teaching him to help control his powers, but he had not yet shared knowledge of this particular power and could not expect their techniques to be as successful in controlling it. As much as he wanted to blame them for failing to help him as they had promised, he knew it was unfair to do so. After all, how could they be expected to give him solutions to a problem they knew nothing about?

 

With a great effort, he managed to bring his mind under control. He could still feel the girl, as well as many of the other team members scattered through the building, but it was tolerable for the moment and wouldn’t distract him from the task at hand – to keep his shields at full force as he faced the telepath. Remy gritted his teeth and knocked on the wooden door leading into the man’s office; waiting for verbal acknowledgement before entering. He moved warily across the carpet, like a lithe cat stalking prey, before settling almost soundlessly in the leather chair facing the older man. Xavier merely watched him through steepled hands, assessing the boy as he usually did whenever they met. There was a tense silence between them, neither appearing ready to break the staring war in which their eyes seemed to be engaged. Finally, the Professor sighed and lowered his eyes as he laid his forearms flat on the desk; arms crossing as he rested a palm on each bicep.

 

“I have been noticing Rogue’s odd behavior in regards to you as of late.” He paused, brow furrowed as if he were attempting to solve a puzzle. “I called her into my office to find out what was wrong and see if she needed help.” Glancing up at the boy, he continued. “The last thing I want is for any of my charges to spiral into a potential depression, particularly Rogue.” The Professor turned an expectant gaze towards the young man, frowning in disappointment at the blank look he received. He resisted the urge to sigh. “Perhaps you can tell me what may have happened between you two?”

 

Absolutely nothing was revealed as Gambit continued to stare at the man. As evenly as possible, he answered. “Don’ know wha’chu talkin’ ‘bout.”

 

Xavier tried again. “Surely something transpired to have her acting so strangely. It’s almost as if she is afraid.” The unspoken ‘of you’ hung in the air between them.

 

“Hn.” Came the Cajun’s reply. “Say again, don’ know wha’chu talkin’ ‘bout, homme.”

 

Remy could feel anger spike in the older man and he shifted in his chair uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny. Suddenly, the emotions he felt from the telepath changed into a sense of calm, and it worried Remy even more as he watched the older man relax in his chair.

 

“Rogue’s powers are such that she absorbs not only the mutant power of others, but also parts of their psyche – personality, memories, that sort of thing, as I’m sure you are already very aware.” The Professor was speaking as if talking about the weather, instead of a student. “Now, you would think that would cause her mind to be a melting pot of undecipherable chaos, and to some extent it is, but, you see, her mind is unique in that it can order the personalities she absorbs to keep her from losing her mind – yet another part of her mutant gift.”

 

The Cajun frowned. Why was the older man telling him this? “Wait, Professeur. You really t’ink you should be sharing dis wit’ me? I t’ought you took some kinda hypocrite promise or somet’ing.”

 

Xavier smiled, an upturning of his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “A Hippocratic oath...yes, if I were a medical doctor, a practicing psychologist, or psychiatrist, then it would be a highly unethical breach of patient-doctor confidentiality.” His smiled disappeared as he once again pinned the Cajun with his gaze. “But, I’m not.” After a brief pause in which Remy could hear himself swallow hard, the Professor continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “With all that capability her mind seems to have to sort and store, it should be virtually impossible to accurately read her mind.” Xavier cocked his head to the side, resting it on his fist as the fingers of his other hand thrummed the desk beneath it. “Now, the interesting thing about Rogue is that it is completely the opposite of what you expect. Instead of shielding, her mind broadcasts many of her thoughts to any telepath in her immediate vicinity. Very. Loudly. Even a low level telepath wouldn’t have to work too terribly hard to read her thoughts. I suspect it has something to do with her age – her mutantcy is still developing. No matter how hard Jean, Betsy, or I have tried to help, it is something she has been unable to control.” The telepath’s gaze had been wandering lazily around his office as he spoke, as if this highly unusual conversation were quite the norm. So, Remy couldn’t help but flinch when those knowing eyes cut back to him sharply. “Until now.” The telepath finally concluded with a hardened tone.

 

Remy blinked. Wait...what? She was hiding her thoughts from the Professor? But why? Was she trying to protect him or herself?

 

“Why would she need to protect either of you?” The Professor asked, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny of the boy across the desk from him.

 

Ruby eyes snapped up and flared brightly at the older man. Remy hadn’t realized he had asked his questions aloud. Or, was the telepath...

 

“I’m not reading your mind, if that’s what you’re wondering. As powerful and fluid as your shields are, you would feel my intrusion most painfully.” Xavier leaned forward, making sure he had the Cajun’s full attention. “I told you before; I will never go where I’m not welcome unless there is no other choice. But, understand that I would not hesitate to probe if I thought for one minute that you were a threat to the children under the protection of this school.”

 

Remy shivered at the barely veiled threat. “Professeur...” he began, licking suddenly dry lips “it ain’t wha’chu t’ink. Well, not real sho’ wha y’ t’ink, mas de femme…an’ me...t’was ” Remy paused for a moment as his southern accent became more pronounced, a sure sign of the stress he was feeling. A couple of deep breaths were inhaled before he gave the older man a steady gaze. “We can touch.”

 

Xavier blinked, his mouth agape as the words struck him like a slap to the face. He hadn’t been sure exactly what to discover, but this was certainly not it. He leaned back in his chair, stunned into silence for several long minutes. “Touch? As in skin to skin?”

 

Remy couldn’t help but smirk. “What ot’er kinda touch dere be?”

 

“Yes, well, of course.” Xavier cleared his throat and adjusted his body in the chair, his gaze directed at the desk in front of him. “I just...wasn’t expecting...” Indigo eyes narrowed as they cut back to capture ruby. “How ‘ **exactly** ’ did you discover this?”

 

It was Remy’s turn to squirm under the intensity of the telepath’s gaze. “Uh, it...and de couch was de only...y’know, to watch de TV...den she...but Remy didn’...” Just as he felt sweat gathering at the base of his neck, trickling down his collar, he was startled from his stuttered reply by an alarm sounding through the office. Focused so completely on the young man, Xavier too was caught unaware as he jumped slightly and frowned in the general direction of the ceiling. “Qui C'est q'ca?” Remy asked, but the Professor ignored the question, maneuvering his chair from around the desk and heading towards the door.

 

“Follow me.” Xavier commanded, and he left through the open doorway without a backwards glance. Gambit trailed behind the telepath as he followed him down the hallway to the elevator that would take them to the lower levels. There was silence in the elevator, Xavier deep in thought and Remy unwilling to have the man’s attention on him again. When the doors opened on the same level as the Danger Room and Med Lab, the thief was slightly hesitant as the older man moved his chair straight ahead, taking the only hallway on this level that Remy had not yet traversed.

 

Remy couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. “Where we goin’?”

 

The chair paused as the telepath glanced back at the boy. “The War Room.” No further explanations were forthcoming and Xavier continued forward, certain the Cajun was following.

 

Remy stood there for a moment, watching the Professor’s back as he pulled away from him, and simply absorbed that piece of information with a grimace. “Alohrs. What else a peace lovin’ group gonna call it?” he muttered under his breath before putting his body in motion once more.

 

The lights flared to life with each step, ebbing away after they passed. There was a solid metal door that slid open, much as the glass one in the Med Lab, and Remy paused to take in the scene. They had entered some kind of conference type room, with a bank of computers on the far wall, a large oval wooden table directly in the center surrounded by rolling executive chairs, and some type of interesting holographic projection device in the very center of the table. Remy’s eyes immediately captured the azure blue of his lover across the room, breathing a small sigh of relief at the slight nod of greeting and reassurance from the feral. Several other team members were already present and it appeared they were waiting on the Professor to begin.

 

“Professor,” Scott addressed him before the telepath had even come to a complete stop within the room. “we seem to have a situation towards the outskirts of the city. The area appears to be mostly abandoned buildings and warehouses, but there are civilians living in the area.”

 

“Show me.” Xavier turned his chair to face the center of the table, as a three dimensional hologram of the area in question appeared before their eyes. There were several small, glowing dots concentrated in one section of the topographical map, along with periodic flashes of light that Remy could only assume were explosions. “Have we been able to identify the source?”

 

“Yes, Sir.” There was an uncomfortable pause as a satellite image displayed on a screen hanging from the wall behind Scott’s head. “It’s Magneto.”

 

“Magnus...” Xavier gasped, as if in pain at what he was seeing. All of the blood drained from Remy’s face as he watched the close-up image of his boss laying siege to the area. In the back of his mind, a little voice chided him as a fool for believing the man had actually changed his mind about causing a distraction.

 

Scott gave his mentor a few moments to digest the information before continuing. “It looks like he has at least two others with him. Perhaps Alpha class. They are focusing their attacks here,” Scott used some sort of laser pen to point at a large area of glowing lights on the hologram, then moved the light to a second smaller area further away “and here. So far, we can’t tell what it is they’re after and why they have separated. But, Magneto is clearly at the second area, based on our readings.”

 

The team leader waited to see if Xavier would comment. When the older telepath simply looked at him expectantly, he continued. “We will form two teams to deal with the areas. Team One will be composed of Storm, Ice Man, and me. We will take the larger area as it seems to be the biggest threat at the moment. Team Two will be Wolverine...”

 

“I will go as well.” Xavier interrupted. His eyes locked with Scott’s. It was a statement, not a request. “I should be there. I can talk with him, reason with him.”

 

Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair before he nodded. “Ok. Team Two will be Wolverine, the Professor, and Gambit. We’ll...”

 

“Hey!” Jean broke in. “Why aren’t I going?” The incredulous look her husband gave her was enough to set her blood on fire. “I am just as capable Scott Summers, despite my condition. And you can’t treat me any differently than you would the others simply because I’m your wife.”

 

“As your doctor, Jean, I have to concur with Scott.” Hank gave the barest of nods to the relief he saw in Cyclops’ face. “You, young lady, must think of the twins. No matter how strong you think you are, there is too much at stake to take the chance that something could happen. It is your unborn children that would suffer.”

 

Jean shrank back in chagrin, the words from her doctor bringing the reality of her status back to the forefront. It wasn’t that she was selfish; she knew it was best for her to be on the inactive list. But, her desire to be there for her team mates temporarily won over reasoning.

 

“Eh, mebbe it be best dat I stay here.” When those red eyes behind the visor turned sharply his way, Gambit shrugged. “Ain’t been training dat long wit’ de team or gone on any missions ‘fore now. Prob’ly better off here.”

 

Before Scott could unclench his jaw to bark the order at the Cajun, the Professor softly spoke to the boy beside him without looking at Remy. “You are already a highly skilled fighter, Remy. We have seen as much in your training. Your powers are as strong as almost every team member present and may be needed to deal with the mutant we are facing.” At this, he turned and pinned the younger man with his indigo gaze. “Magneto is very powerful, Gambit. It will take all three of us to handle him, if I am unable to reach him with words.”

 

Remy stared at the man, knowing that he would not be able to get out of going, and gusted out a breathy “Weh”. A disarming grin was turned on the rest of the team, focusing on the team leader as he said “Sounds like a bon plan. When we leaving?” He ignored the questioning look from his lover; it had become entirely too easy for the feral to see through his masks. Remy all but tuned out the rest of the meeting, his mind spinning out of control. What was he going to do when Magneto saw him? How could he manipulate his way out of this situation? No matter what line of thought he followed, he could see no escape and the butterflies in his stomach worked overtime as he walked with the rest of the team to the underground hangar.

 

They boarded one of the smaller transports and strapped in for the short flight to the area of disturbance. Remy had his eyes firmly fixed on the metal grating of the floor as he tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do. He couldn’t very well fight his boss. But to not fight would cause the X-men to be suspicious of him, which could endanger his mission and his life. The stress was having an effect on his shields, and he could feel an array of emotions coming from the others ranging from anxiety to excitement coupled with fear and determination. Overlaying it all was the warm presence of the feral, a gentle touch of concern and protectiveness rolling through his mind. Though these feelings were being cast about from the older man to the team in general, they were projected most strongly on the Cajun. Remy took that feeling and wrapped it around him like a blanket, using it to bolster his already strained shields and keep the sensory overload at bay.

 

They landed on a roof in between the two areas that had shown on the holographic projection as the primary sources of disturbance. On disembarking, the two teams split in opposite directions in preparation to confront the problems. The air was thick with smoke and dust; dampness joining into the mix from the fog rolling off the nearby bay. The cool evening breeze instantly chilled the light coating of mist and sweat on their skins as Team One made its way to the largest areas of destruction. Burnt husks of buildings and warehouses smoldered from the flames. In the distance, sirens could be heard as fire-engines raced to various locations to keep the fires from spreading out of control.

 

“Storm!” Scott commanded into the communicator on his uniform. “See if you can do something about the fires.” He watched as the weather goddess flew higher into the sky, her arms stretching out and her snow white hair waving around her like strands of ribbon in the wind. A clap of thunder heralded the onslaught of purifying rain, the drops falling rapidly to douse the burning heat. Steam hissed and crackled everywhere that the flames died away. Cyclops continued to walk among the ruins as Ice Man skated beside him on his frozen slide.

 

“Now that’s just a damn shame.” The smooth baritone came from behind them, and immediately Cyclops and Ice Man spun round to face the enemy. “And after all of Burner’s hard work.” The man seemed perfectly ordinary - his short, dark hair was a common cut and color, eyes brown and set within a normal face that would have looked like any other person on a crowded street. Only this street wasn’t crowded and it was quite obvious this man was anything but normal.

 

“Who are you?” Scott demanded, eyeing the man standing several yards away from them.

 

With a mock bow, the other man introduced himself. “My name is Madrox. And you’re interrupting the party. Why don’t you losers toddle on back to wherever you came from?”

 

One of Scott’s hands moved automatically to the side of his visor. “Stop what you’re doing and come with us peacefully. Don’t make us hurt you.”

 

The young man snorted. “As if you have anything to stop me.” He casually turned his eyes to the mutant flying high in the sky, staring back into those ivory orbs that observed him from above. “Besides, you have other things to worry about than little old me.” With those cryptic words, Madrox smiled as a sudden burst of fire arched upwards from behind a building, heading straight for Storm. With her attention on the men below, she had no way of knowing that mortal danger was about to engulf her.

 

Bobby was suspicious of the casual atmosphere of the man in front of them. As he watched the slow smile appear on the other mutant’s face, he whipped his head around in time to see the column of fire heading for Storm’s back. “STORM!” He screamed as he pushed his hands towards her and let loose a stream of ice. The frosty torrent managed to intercept the firestorm just as it reached her, causing her to be thrown backwards by the concussive pressure of the two extreme elements. Momentarily distracted by events unfolding in the sky, Cyclops failed to stop Madrox as he swung a pipe with all his power and hit Ice Man across the back of the head. Bobby’s mouth opened in a silent cry as his hands fell to his side. His body fell forward with a thud, sprawling along the pavement as a pool of blood began to grow under his head.

 

Shock was quickly replaced by anger as Scott growled and turned to the other mutant, his visor releasing a full optic blast. The direct hit, however, did not take the man down as Cyclops had expected. The X-Men leader took an involuntary step back as there were suddenly two men before him, identical twins standing where only one had previously stood. Both Madrox’s smiled at him, a look that was pure evil. “That tickles, man. Do it again.”

 

Storm managed to stop her backward spiraling descent just before she hit the building toward which her body was fast approaching. With a slight shake of her head, she summoned the wind to propel her forward towards her team-mates, when she was halted by words coming from an alley below her. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now where you think you’re going, sweetheart?” A willowy man with long white hair to rival her own stepped from the shadows. “And here I thought you wanted to play with ol’ Byron.” The wink was the only warning she had as the wall of the building behind her exploded into flames. She screamed as scorching pieces of brick and mortar slammed into her, burning through her protective uniform and searing the skin beneath. It was an unconscious move on her part to bring forth the cooling purity of rain as she flew straight up into the sky to avoid the debris. A moment she needed to gather herself, her breath coming in pained gasps before anger stole over her, making her ignore the wounds as she turned her fiery white eyes on the mutant below. “You want to play? Then play we shall.” Her arms surged up and then down, channeling bolts of lightening at the man.

 

Byron’s grin slipped for a moment as he threw his hands in front of him and formed a fire shield in front of his body. It wouldn’t stop the bolts of electricity, but it would shield him from her sight enough that there was a chance the lightening would miss him. “They always told me I had an electric personality.” He muttered as he dodged the strikes piercing his shield.

 

Logan , Xavier, and Remy made their way slowly down the side street, following a path of destruction and hoping to convince the source to cease and desist. Logan took point, Xavier moving behind him in the chair while Remy reluctantly brought up the rear. The Cajun recognized the handiwork of Calley, knowing the man was one of Magneto’s lackeys. Remy was not looking forward to seeing his boss, knowing without a doubt that the man would be angered beyond reason that the distraction he was providing was wasted. There was no guarantee that he would be able to explain his way out of this latest debacle. He had to find a way to copy the information that the Master of Magnetism sought, and soon. Suddenly, Xavier stopped and his hands flew to his temples. “Wait, Logan. Team One is under attack. They need our help.”

 

“Then whata we waitin’ for?” Logan growled as he turned to make his way to the other drop point. He didn’t wait to see if the Professor or the kid were following. Only a few steps were taken when Magneto lowered himself in front of them, a respectable distance between the opposing forces.

 

“Hello, Charles.” Erik’s eyes narrowed as they flickered to the young thief standing partly in the shadows behind the telepath. “I did not expect to see you here.” It was hard for Remy to tell if the other man was talking to the Professor, or to him.

 

Logan’s body crouched defensively, all six blades sliding out in preparation to attack or defend, whichever came first. Charles placed a restraining hand on the feral’s arm as he slowly moved his chair forward, his other hand resting in a non-threatening posture on his lap. “Erik, please. Why are you doing this? You, of all people, know that violence is never the answer. Come back with me; listen to what I have to say. Together, we can show the world that humans and mutants can...”

 

Xavier’s words were cut off as Magneto took hold of the metal in his chair. “Don’t you ever grow tired of that worn out rhetoric, Charles? You know it will never be as Utopian as you make it out to be.” With a flick of his wrist, he sent the chair and the Professor flying across the street to crash into the concrete side of a building. The chair fell sideways to the ground, dumping the dazed and slightly concussed Professor to the pavement.

 

The roar from Logan was purely primal as he charged the other mutant. But before he could get within striking distance, his body was seized and slowly raised several feet into the air. A choked sound came from his mouth as Magneto raised his hands. “You think to attack me, little man? I can smell the sweet tang of the metal you carry within your very bones.” He gave no attention to the Cajun that had scuttled backwards toward the mouth of an alley, all of his concentration on the deadly mutant he held in his magnetic grasp. “The animal following the cripple, how quaint...and how perfectly ridiculous.” Red gloved hands closed into tight fists as Erik called forth the adamantium infused within the feral’s body.

 

Scott was taking a beating. With every blast of his optic lens, or every strike of his fist, another clone would spring forth, lending more strength and hands as they pounded on the Commander. Blood fell in copious amounts from various wounds on Cyclop’s face and torso. His strength was fading fast and he began to stagger under the Multiple-Man’s assault. It was with sheer will-power that he remained conscious on his feet. The need to protect his fallen team-mate overrode his personal hurts. Only a couple of times did he spare a quick worried glance towards Bobby, who remained motionless on the ground, laying in a pool of his own blood from the head wound the first Madrox had inflicted.

 

“What’s the matter, hotshot?” One of the clones taunted. Another clone came forward and slammed a foot into Scott’s stomach, sending the team leader to his knees as another clone rushed from the side and backhanded the man. “That all you got, tough guy?” Yet another clone sneered.

 

A groan fell from his mouth as Bobby slowly came to. Everything was muddled and fuzzy, his eyesight a precarious thing. It took him several moments before the world stopped spinning, as he came up onto his elbows and forced his battered skull to focus on the scene. He could see Scott kneeling while a great many men converged on him, fists or feet flying and kicking as they mobbed the team leader. A quick, painful glance to the skies told him that Storm was involved in her own battle and would not get to Scott in time. He could see through his blurry vision that Scott was failing and about to be down for the count. Anger surged from deep within and he could feel something shifting in his powers. The Professor had always told him that he had the potential to be one of the most powerful mutants to exist, if he could simply learn to control and draw on his powers, a task he had never been able to master. But now, as he watched his team mate fall completely to the ground under the assault of the mob of mutants, his blood boiled in direct contradiction to his mutant power. Without conscious thought, his eyes froze over into pure sparkling pools of ice and he looked at the mob of men raining down punches on Scott. As his ice gaze tracked over each man in the group, his vision was able to separate one from the group that was just a touch different. One man in a mob of identical men had a slightly higher body temperature, a difference that even the most advanced thermometer would probably dismiss, but a difference that Bobby’s special sight could see with crystal clarity. His hand reached out, teeth gritted against the thundering ache in his head, and he shot a blast of ice at the man’s head, encasing it instantly; freezing the very fluid in which the man’s brain sat. Death was instantaneous, as the mutant fell backwards.

 

Suddenly, all of the clones dropped to the ground, crying in pain as they grasped their heads. One by one, they were absorbed, until only one clone remained. The clone was crouched over his knees, head tucked down to his chest for a moment before it snapped up, and wild fearful eyes darted all around. Those eyes landed on the original host body and a pained howl burst forth, before the clone jumped up and fled into the night. Bobby sighed and then dropped his head, drained and shocked as the realization of what he’d just done started to filter into his thoughts. Scott breathed shallow, his ribs protesting even that small amount of movement as he gathered his energy and crawled over to his fallen comrade. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he knew Bobby had saved him, and that he needed to get to the boy and offer comfort. Hopefully, Storm would find them soon.

 

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” Byron grinned as he threw another blast of fire from his hands. She had already failed to strike him with lightening, the water she showered on him simply turned to steam and the wind seemed to fuel his pyrotechnics.

 

But Storm was done playing as an idea came to mind. She glared heatedly at the other mutant and threw him her own smile. “Yes, Burner. I can. Prepare to meet your end. Winds!!” She raised her hands and began to call forth a tempest of epic proportions.

 

Byron Calley laughed. “Give me a break, sweetheart. Didn’t you learn anything the last time you tried to blow me away? Fire travels faster on the wind.”

 

But she ignored him, twirling her hands as the wind spiraled into a tunnel around her. When the whirlwind swirled as fast as an F5 tornado, she directed the funnel over him, placing the mutant directly in the center. She saw his smile fade as he nervously watched the columns of air spin around him, and her own grin widened. “Perhaps wind can fuel the flames, but the center of a vortex sucks the very oxygen out like a vacuum, and we all know that fire can not exist without food.” Byron’s hands flew to his throat as he began to choke, his body gasping for breath as all of the air within the spinning column disappeared. Her white hair flew all around her as she watched the other mutant dispassionately. He fell, then collapsed sideways, and still the tempest continued. Only after his chest rose and fell one last time did she pull back and strive to calm the swirling winds. It was a massive struggle on her part, to call back such power once it had been unleashed. It took several long minutes for the winds to die down and she slowly lowered herself to the ground, drained of almost all her energy. A quick check of the fire-starter showed that the man was still alive, though his heart beat was faint. She spared no more time for him as she made her way quickly to Scott and Bobby. They needed to assess their wounds and get back to the ship to call for help. She only hoped that the other team had fared better than they.

 

Logan’s body arched backwards, his head flung and eyes wide and unseeing as a silent scream of agony hung in his throat. The six deadly blades emanating from the knuckles of both hands began to turn malleable, slowly swaying in the breeze as the tips dripped silver onto the pavement below. Metallic tears started to run from those blue eyes clouded with unfathomable pain, and Logan could feel the very pores of his skin beginning to sweat silver beads of perspiration.

 

“Erik...” Xavier whimpered, his own battered body refusing to respond as he attempted to drag himself back across the street. “Please, you’re killing him.”

 

“I don’t care.” Magneto drawled as he clenched his fists tighter, attempting to pull the metal from the other mutant’s body at a faster rate. “He is just a dog serving a worthless master. It is no less than he deserves.”

 

Remy had been standing wide-eyed in the shadows, too overwhelmed to comprehend what was happening. The sheer amount of terror and pain pouring from his lover caused Remy’s mind to suddenly snap. “NON!” Remy screamed, as he flung his whole deck of cards in a discus throw at the unsuspecting mutant. The glowing cards fanned out in an arch, soaring precisely at the man, slicing like a paper cut through the magnetic shield surrounding him and impacting in multiple points of his body. The resulting explosions caused Magneto to fly full force into a car behind him. The machine curled around him like a metallic lover, as he grunted in pain of the impact, his protective helmet disconnecting from his head and flying backwards onto the sidewalk. Remy fell to one knee panting, two fingers connecting with the concrete to steady himself as he stared in shock at the damage he caused, flinching slightly when the Master of Magnetism managed to focus his eyes with pure hatred towards him.

 

The Professor took immediate advantage of the situation and invaded Erik’s mind. “Erik, please, you must stop this senseless fighting. Join us in helping mankind to overcome their fear of mutants so we may all live together in peace.”

 

“Never, Charles!” Magneto spared no more attention for the Cajun as one hand grasped the side of his head, while the other arm clutched at his wounded stomach. He staggered to his feet and sent one last glare to Remy, before using his remaining strength to gather enough forces to lift into the air and away from the carnage.

 

Remy turned his body slightly and placed one hand on Wolverine’s chest, the other moving up to caress the older man’s cheek and brush sweat soaked hair from his forehead. “ Logan, you a’right? Logan, talk to me, cher.” The pain was excruciating, but slowly healing, and Logan could only stare in wonder at the man crouched beside him. / _Deadly beautiful_ / was all he managed to think, before welcoming the wonderful embrace of unconsciousness.

 

End ch 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Alohrs – of course, sure  
> Qui C'est q'ca?—What or Who is that?  
> Bon - good


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in first chapter
> 
> Warnings #2: This chapter contains a non-graphic, mostly implied, sexual scene that would be considered non-consensual/dubious consent.

Time seemed meaningless and everything around him blurred. The whirlwind of activity that took place following the fight was ignored, and all Remy could focus on was Logan. He had no recollection of how they had managed to get back to the mansion, or what happened to the ones they had been fighting. All that Remy knew was that Logan’s eyes were closed, his heartbeat was faint and his breathing was shallow. It was unacceptable and the Cajun willed his lover to open his eyes. But the older man never did.

 

Speculative gazes from the Professor found him several times during the chaos, but Xavier never approached Remy with his thoughts. While his ruby eyes remained locked on Logan’s face, he dimly heard Hank briefing Xavier on the status of the teams. It appeared that Storm had come away from the fight reasonably sound. Burned patches of skin adorned her body, and with topical crème in hand she was allowed to retire to her loft for much needed bed rest to rebuild her depleted energies. Cyclops had several broken ribs and contusions all over his body. Scratch marks as well as deep bruising of tissue with possible internal bleeding were also diagnosed. He, along with Bobby who had a concussion from the blow to the head, was relegated to the infirmary for a few days. Logan would keep them company, though he would be in a private area of the wing; his condition being the most critical of all. Xavier, himself, was only slightly battered from the ordeal and was ordered to get some rest, as well. With one final thoughtful gaze at the boy sitting diligently beside Logan’s bed, the Professor left the medical lab.

 

If anyone spoke to him, he was unaware as his eyes stayed riveted on the feral laying so still on the bed. The beeping and whooshing of machines droned in the background, a constant source of white noise that drowned out the voices of those around him as he focused on Logan’s prone figure. Periodically, Dr. McCoy would attempt to coax the young man away from his patient’s bed, but felt like he was talking with a brick wall. It was the pre-dawn hours of the morning when Hank finally had enough, insisting that the young Cajun would leave his medical ward by force if necessary; ordering Remy to get some food and sleep. But Remy was still tense from the fight and the worry over the man he loved.

 

Love...

 

It was still a shock to him that he held such strong emotions for the older man. Remy made his way outside, moving a good distance from the mansion and venturing into the crop of trees that marked the beginnings of a deciduous forest. The rough bark of a Hickory bit into his back through the layers of cloth, as he sat against it. Both knees were drawn up, as he wrapped his arms around them and leaned his head back to stare at the sky. Fingers of deep, rich peach and burnt orange clawed through the darkness, causing the stars and moon to slowly fade from his view as rays stretched from the burgeoning sun that was pushing its way above the horizon. A heavy sigh joined in the chorus of crickets and awakening birds, as Remy breathed in the crisp air. Now that adrenalin no longer surged through his body, the wintry temperatures made him shiver under the chilly early morning frost. A cigarette was pulled from his pocket and lit, before he slid one leg to the ground with the palm of his hand resting on his thigh. After a slow, deep pull on the stick, the other hand dangled over his upraised knee while the smoke drifted away from the lit cigarette held between two fingers. If he had enough energy, he would have headed back to the mansion for a cup of coffee, or maybe a beer. But he felt drained, both emotionally and physically, unable to do more than curb his nicotine craving and think about these past hours. He had seen it in Magneto’s eyes, before the man fled. There would be a penance due, Remy knew without a doubt. Strangely, though, the Cajun couldn’t seem to find it within himself to care. The longer this assignment took; he was starting to realize there was more at stake than simply the theft of information from a genetic database. He was well aware of what his master was capable with that kind of data. But he wasn’t sure about Lehnsherr. The man, himself, was an expert on genetic manipulation. What was he planning to do with the data?

 

He felt her coming, before he heard her, and ended his musings. After the lecture the Professor had given him, Remy needed to be cautious around the girl. Having witnessed her powers, as well as the fact that she most likely had touched at least one of the telepaths in the house at some point, Remy wanted to take no chances that she might unknowingly pick up his thoughts and innocently transfer them to Xavier.

 

Rogue stopped several feet away from the tree, chewing her lower lip as she stared at the boy’s profile. He seemed as lost as she did, gazing at the sky above with half-lidded eyes. Arms wrapped about her to ward off the chill, she wondered what to say to him and felt the awkwardness that had developed between them since that night in the recreation room. Remy could feel it, almost like a tangible object within his grasp, and internally sighed. It was yet another problem he needed to deal with. After several minutes of silence, leaving her twisting in the wind of her indecision, he took the first step.

 

“Y’know, chere, it gonna give dis ol’ boy a complex if you keep standing dere and staring a hole in me.” Slowly his head turned to face her, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ain’t got de sole claim on dis here tree, if you wanna sit.” He patted the ground beside him.

 

Startled, she hesitated a moment before moving to sit beside him. Rather than lean against the trunk, she sat cross-legged and slightly hunched over, her forearms resting on her thighs as she picked up a large brown leaf and began to twirl it between the fingers of both hands. Silence again hung between them, until Rogue started to systematically strip segments of the leaf along the withered veins. When she completely obliterated the once vibrant plant to small piles of dried up debris, she reached for another and started the process again. The crinkle and crackling noises that her hands made, in the destruction of one leaf after another, audibly emphasized the nervousness that was vibrating through her body. It was enough to make Remy’s teeth hurt as he clenched his jaw in frustration; the last of his patience dwindling away.

 

As Rogue collected yet another leaf, Remy reached out and grasped both of her hands in his free one, squeezing just enough to still her motions. “It’s dead, girl. Leave it be.” After a moment, he patted her hands before withdrawing, taking a pull on the cigarette in his dangling fingers and watching as she dropped the leaf and fisted one hand within the palm of the other in an attempt to resist the temptation of shredding yet another.

 

Expelling the smoke from his lungs, Remy continued to gaze above him. He mused that quiet solitude may be over-rated, as the silence between them became suffocating. It wasn’t so much the lack of human voice that was pushing Remy to the edge. Rather, the emotional turmoil sitting beside him, battering away at his already weakened shields, was unhinging him. With a flick of his cigarette and a deep sigh as he leaned further back against the tree, the Cajun decided to end the silent stalemate. “ M’sorry, chere.”

 

Rogue looked up at him. “What for?”

 

Remy turned his head sharply, a sarcastic barb on the tip of his tongue, until he took in her perplexed look as well as what he could feel from her, and realized that she was genuinely confused by his apology. His cigarette filled fingers came up to rub along his jaw for a moment while he collected his thoughts. “Uh, well for dat time.” Looking up at the deepening furrow of her brow, he clarified. “Y’know, in de rec room. When I finger f…uh…did dat wit’ my fingers. I shouldn’a done dat to you.”

 

The light of comprehension was in her eyes, as she blushed and looked back down at the little pile of dried debris she had created earlier. “It’s ok, Remy. It was my fault for doing what I did.”

 

He grabbed her chin and gently turned it towards him, so he could look her in the eye. “Non, chere. What you did was a bit much, and you shouldn’ be using yor powers to spy on friends. Mas, dat don’ give no one de right to touch you intimately wit’out yor permission. What I did, it weren’t right, either.”

 

A small smile appeared on her face as she said “Two wrongs don’t make a right, do they.”

 

“Non.” Remy smirked, before releasing her chin.

 

“I’m sorry, too, Remy.” She bit her lip and glanced back at the pile of leaf parts in front of her. “Yor right. I was trying to spy on ya. It was stupid.” Taking a deep breath, her face turned towards the sky. “When ya first came here, I was so jealous of ya. The way Logan watched ya, and always wanting to be with ya. I wanted him to look at me that way, ya know?” She graced him with a sheepish smile, before turning away again to pick at the leaves. “I love Logan. Guess I always have. But he don’t look at me that way. He sees me as a little girl, like his daughter or sister, or something. I dunno.” A sigh escaped her, as she wiped her palms along the fabric of her thighs. “So, when I saw how he was falling for ya, I was angry and tried to find a reason to make him see that you were…” She shrugged her shoulders, as if the reasons didn’t matter anymore. “Anyway, that’s why I did that.”

 

Remy held his tongue, listening to her explanation with a twinge of guilt and sympathy in his gut. She really was a lonely young woman. Rogue shifted her body around so that she was facing his profile, her knees barely touching the side of his leg before continuing. “What ya did, it was something I never experienced with anyone before. And after ya left, I felt ashamed of myself for being so forward and driving ya to do that. But, ya stopped yorself. Ya could have, you had every right ta…” When she saw him start to shake his head in the negative, she reached out and touched his arm. “...no, wait. Listen, now. This is the way I see it. I didn’t say no. Maybe cause I was overwhelmed, but I didn’t say it. Ya stopped anyways, knowing I wasn’t ready for that kinda thing. It opened my eyes and let me see that maybe I wasn’t treating ya fairly. I’d been so sure you were the enemy. But, after that night, I started watching ya. It was little things, Remy. Like helping out Storm in the garden without her asking. Or, cleaning up the dishes when it wasn’t yor turn.” A tiny laugh burst forth. “It probably sounds stupid, but those kinds a things tell something about a person. And then, you saved Logan and the Professor.” Her eyes were moist and shining when he finally looked at her. “Ya coulda run, but ya didn’t. Ya faced down one of the most powerful mutants we’ve seen, all by yorself, risking yor life for people ya only met a few months ago. Now I know yor a good man, Remy.”

 

He couldn’t stay and listen to this any longer. It was making his stomach churn with guilt and unnamed feelings he didn’t want to address. He gracefully rose to his feet and dusted off the dirt from the back of his pants. “A bit tired, chere. T’ink I’m gonna get some rest like de doctor ordered.”

 

As he stood before her, preparing to walk away, she reached out and touched his knee. “For a long time, I was jealous of the way Logan looked at ya. But I never thought I’d ever be jealous of Logan.” She stared hard at where her hand grasped his leg. “Until now.”

 

The Cajun stood there, lost for a moment in her confession, before finally crouching down in front of her. Her emerald eyes were fixed on his chest and he gently cupped her face. “One day, chere, you gon’ learn to master yor power. Maybe even learn to use all de powers you done pulled from ot’ers over time. Den, you gon’ find de person you was meant to be wit’. And it’s gon’ be beautiful.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against her forehead in a chaste kiss, before standing and striding away, leaving her with her thoughts.

 

Sleep did not come easily that night, or for the next few nights as Remy struggled against his own conscience. The longer he delayed facing the inevitable with Magneto, the worse he knew things would be for him. But, he could not make himself leave the mansion while Logan was so incapacitated. Several days passed before Hank released the much improved feral to his own bedroom. Logan was still fairly weak from the metal poisoning, but the doctor had given him a clean bill of health with the note that Logan would be back to his grumpy self with a few more days of rest. Remy knew he needed to face his boss and try to repair any damage done. Hopefully the few days that had passed would find the other man less angry. He decided to leave that evening, after first spending some time with Logan.

 

The sun hung low in the late afternoon sky, as Remy made his way to the feral’s room. As quiet as the thief he was, he entered the room and moved to stand beside Logan’s bed, staring at the older man for many long minutes before Logan’s eyes opened to greet him. It was testament to Logan’s weakened state that he didn’t immediately sense the younger man when the Cajun first entered the room.

 

“Hey, Gumbo. Heard ya put the hurt on Magneto.”

 

Remy grinned down at the man. “Oui. Gambit blew him away wit’ my special card tricks.”

 

Logan shifted to get more comfortable. “Wish ya’d killed him.”

 

The grin faded, as Remy sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Logan’s chest. “Was worried ‘bout you, homme.” He whispered.

 

One strong hand came up to capture the thief’s roaming fingers and bring them to his lips for a soft kiss, before Logan answered. “Take more than a metal manipulatin’ bastard to kill me, kid.” Logan tugged on the younger mutant’s hand, calling the boy forward to capture lips that tasted sweeter than he remembered.

 

Remy straddled the other man; leaning down to pepper kisses along the feral’s jaw. “Need you, cher. Need to know yor alive and not just a dream; need to feel you.” He needed something to hold onto when he faced his boss.

 

The older man panted as the young mutant’s talented tongue rimmed the shell of his ear. “Not gonna be much help, I’m afraid. Got almost no energy.” He could feel the boy’s smile against his neck.

 

“Don’ worry, mon coeur. I’ll do all de work. You just lay back and enjoy.” The Cajun made short work of their clothes, hands roaming over the ridges and planes of the older man’s chest. A pink tongue laved the dark areole circling a pert nipple, before latching on to nibble at the pebbled flesh. Logan’s eyes rolled back and he groaned low at the sensation. Remy was everywhere, causing Logan’s skin to burn with his touches; nerves set aflame from talented tongue, teeth, and fingers. Before the older man could process the feverish pace, Remy swallowed him whole; lavishing focused attention on Logan’s cock, until the feral thought he might come undone from the overwhelming pleasure. With his eyes closed, he let his sense of touch run free, relishing in the feel of the boy. Sense of smell wide open, he was intoxicated with the mixture of aromas, the fruity tang of shampoo marrying with the sweet spice of perspiration and the heady musk of Remy’s sex. He felt the shift in weight, the movement of the very air around them just before he was encased in the tight heat of the boy, as Remy lowered himself onto Logan’s hardened member, sheathing the older man completely.

 

Head thrown back and guttural moans of ecstasy escaping his throat, Remy rode Logan with something akin to panic, lifting himself rapidly up and down on the feral’s thick shaft in wild abandon. Logan could only watch in a lust filled daze, eyes glazed over with the pleasure the boy was giving him and the love he felt for the Cajun. If he hadn’t still been recovering, his mind a little clearer, Logan would have recognized the coupling as desperation – desperate love, desperate fear.

 

Their love-making was frantic, pushing higher and higher until it reached the ultimate crest, waves of passion crashing over them as they filled and were filled with seeds of their love. Their cries of completion echoed around the room, until at last Remy fell forward to lie on the older man beneath him. He was content to remain joined with the man. / _Just a while longer._ / Remy laid his cheek against the wiry curls of the older man’s chest, rubbing along the coarse hairs as if trying to leave his scent mark. Sated, it didn’t take long for Logan to fall into a deep sleep of the righteously exhausted. Remy’s chest was tight with emotion, as he gave the older man one last kiss before silently slipping away. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

 

The ride to the warehouse district seemed to take longer than usual, the lonely winding roads stretching impossibly further as he sped towards imminent danger. When he reached the building that housed his current employer, it took every ounce of will power to make his feet move towards the door. The lack of Creed at the entrance to harass and grope him set warning bells off in his head. He didn’t like deviations from the norm, not when it was his life on the line. With a grim set to his mouth, he steeled himself and moved through the building, until he reached Magneto’s office. A knock yielded momentary silence, before he heard the orders to enter the darkened room. His steps faltered as he felt the presence of both Magneto and Sabretooth in the office, but he could only immediately see the master of magnetism, as he kept his head straight and walked towards the desk.

 

Remy stood in the middle of the room, all too aware of Creed skulking in the shadows somewhere behind him. Magneto sat at his desk, ignoring the Cajun as he continued to scribble notes on some papers before him. But Remy wasn’t fooled into believing the man was calmly working. The anger and tension radiated off the older man like the surface of the sun, making the air in the room almost suffocating and hot to the touch. Finally, after what seemed like hours but had only been a few minutes, the older man carefully laid the pen down and stood. Raw power oozed from the mutant, as he moved with purpose to stand directly in front of Remy.

 

“Explain to me, thief, how you came to be with those fools the other night, instead of obtaining the data as I requested?” The sheer control in that baritone voice sent shivers down Remy’s back. “I seem to recall informing you that I would provide the suitable distraction you claimed you needed. And yet, to my surprise, you arrived with the X-Men to do battle against me.”

 

It took an effort not to grind his teeth before answering. “De Professor, he insisted I go.”

 

Ruby eyes watched warily as the master of metal slightly nodded, as if coming to some kind of decision, and then suddenly the older man’s arm whipped around and backhanded the Cajun hard. “YOU FOUGHT AGAINST ME!!!!!” Remy’s head snapped sideways and he almost lost his balance as his teeth cut into the side of his mouth, barely registering the angry words that flew from the older man’s mouth over the ringing in his ears.

 

Remy gasped, breath stolen for a moment at the unexpected blow. One fingerless gloved hand reached up and smeared away the blood forming at the edge of his mouth. “Tried to convince him I should stay at de mansion, but he wouldn’ listen.” He panted, trying to avoid the fury he knew he would see in the other mutant’s eyes.

 

Small vibrations thrumming through his body were the only signs of his anger, as Magneto clenched his fists and turned his back on the boy. He walked towards his desk, but did not shift to move behind it. Instead, he stood facing the wall as if he were the one answering to an imaginary boss sitting on the other side of the furniture; his rigid back the only thing in Remy’s line of sight. The tension filled the room as the other man remained silent; a pregnant pause that did nothing to ease the coil of dread that had been building in his gut. Remy knew he was outmatched with both mutants in the room, but he was determined to be prepared for what he felt was coming.

 

Erik sighed deeply, forcing his muscles to relax. Part of him knew he had been unrealistic to expect this mission to be successfully completed in such a short time, but the other more dominant, less rational, part of his mind simply wanted to lash out at the source of his current frustration. “Where is my data?”

 

The Cajun pursed his lips. He’d been expecting the question, but still felt unprepared to give a sufficient answer. “I’m close.”

 

“You said that last time.” Magneto stated, the calmness of his voice belying the underlying anger he felt. “How close are you and when can I expect the results I seek?”

 

“Soon, M’sieur.” Remy cajoled, hoping that his deference to the master of magnetism would ease the man’s anger. Perhaps he could walk away from this meeting with little more than a headache and wounded pride.

 

Erik frowned, not at all pleased with such a vague answer. “And what does ‘soon’ mean in your terminology, LeBeau? You’ve been with them for months.”

 

The answers he had carefully constructed in his mind on the way to meet with Magneto played through his thoughts like flash cards. “A couple months, I t’ink. Gotta find some time alone wit’ de main computer, den get t’ru de last of de encryption.”

 

Magneto smiled, though it could not be seen with his back to the boy. A couple more months didn’t seem unreasonable after all the amount of time and effort he had already invested in this plan. Still, the boy needed to learn a lesson in regards to attacking his employers. “Very well. I shall endeavor to patiently wait for you to complete your assigned tasks.” Blue-grey eyes flickered to two metal pieces on the table in front of him, raising them to hover in the air behind his body, out of Remy’s line of sight as he turned around to face the boy.

 

There was no warning in the older man’s blank face as he stared dispassionately at the Cajun. Suddenly, Magneto’s arms shot outwards to his side, a parody of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man for a few moments, before thrusting both arms towards Gambit. Two metal spheres flew at the boy, wrapping themselves around his hands and wrists before he could even gasp in surprise. Magneto fisted his hands on his outstretched arms, commanding the material to obey him, pulling Gambit’s arms forward. Remy struggled against the hold, a mixture of shock and fear reflecting in his crystal eyes as his hands yanked away from the side of his body to extend in front of him. The controlling hands of the older mutant vibrated with power, and he brought both his fists together. A few feet opposite, the metal around Remy’s hands slammed into one another with a powerful magnetic attraction. Magneto used his mutant abilities to place tremendous pressure on the metallic substances to liquefy and reshape them as the components began to fuse together, effectively forming one metallic block. The weight of the contraption was unexpected, causing Remy to fall to one knee as his metal encased hands hit the floor with a loud ‘thunk’ when Magneto released control. The Cajun was peripherally aware of his boss’s approach as he continued to blink at his hands in surprise. 

 

“That does not, however, excuse your participation in the battle against me.” Lehnsherr hovered above him, satisfaction at his handiwork oozing from every pore. “I have given you too much leeway and it is now time to remind you of your place.” Eyes the color of steel flickered briefly towards the figure in the shadows, before turning to stride towards the door. “Teach him well.” Stopping at the threshold, Magneto turned to give one last hard look at the boy, relishing the horror in those ruby orbs for a moment before he turned that stern, commanding gaze on the feral. “But you know my rules, Creed.” He warned, and then he was gone.

 

Still kneeling, Remy was speechless as he continued to stare at the closed door through which Lehnsherr had left. He heard the larger mutant shuffling towards him, a low rumbling purr in Creed’s throat that caused Remy to pant in equal parts of anger and fear. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Cajun.” It was easy to picture the leer on the feral’s face, even as Remy’s back was to the man. Remy looked down at his hands one more time and counted heartbeats until he felt the larger mutant directly behind him; felt him bending over to grab.

 

“Fuck dat.” Remy spat, summoning all his strength to jump up from the floor and swing his heavy metal cased hands around like a club to strike Sabertooth across the cheek, hearing the crunch of bones as the steel block connected. The feral went sideways, slamming into the wall from the unexpected blow. A massive gash exposed muscle and tendon as blood ran freely down the older man’s face and neck. It took Creed a few moments to gather his scattered wits, but already the wound was healing. The impact against the big body did nothing to slow the arc of the swing, and it pulled Remy’s body around until he was once again sprawled on the floor with the echoing pinging sound of metallic strikes in his ear. He wasted no time, struggling with the weight of the steel case, as he tried to bring himself into a position to make a run for the door. But it was not enough. No sooner had he brought himself up to his feet, his body bent over with the weight of the metal still holding his hands to the floor, when Creed’s arms circled round his chest. The impact of the larger body against his back sent them both to the floor. Creed pulled Remy back against his chest and they both sat there on their knees, the outside of Remy’s thighs nestled securely against the inside of Creed’s as they panted from the pain and exertion.

 

“You know, I always like it when you struggle Remy, makes things more intense. But Magneto don’t want you too damaged, which is fine by me. I don’t like to hurt my pets...much.” Creed’s hot, vile breath blew across the back of his ear as he hissed, raising the hairs on the nape of Remy’s neck. “So what’s it gonna be, sweet cheeks?”

 

It wasn’t really a question or a choice. Remy knew exactly what the man wanted...capitulation. What was it about this particular feral that demanded submission from him? Sabertooth could take what he wanted, violently and with no remorse; had done so on many occasions, giving no mercy to his victims. But with Remy it was some kind of sick game, and the Cajun was in no real mood to play. Creed got off not on the rough sex with the thief, but rather the chase and the domination. It was always the edge of consent between the two. There was predator and prey in the naked jungle, and Remy knew he skirted the border between the two. Perhaps it was this that seemed to attract ferals to him. He didn’t know. All that really mattered is that ‘this’ feral had a need to conquer him, but no desire to damage too much in the process, as if therein lay the rare challenge.

 

Remy remained tense in his arms a few minutes more, struggling with himself over the conflicting desires to fight, flee, and surrender. Ultimately he knew which path he would follow and wasted no more time. With a shaky sigh, he lay his head back on the larger mutant’s shoulder, baring his neck and closing his eyes. It was exactly what Creed wanted as the older man chuckled and began licking a path along Remy’s neck. The thief suppressed a shudder and managed to keep a smirk off his face. Magneto had no clue when it came to the real relationship between himself and Creed. If the master of magnetism truly thought this would be some kind of painful punishment, he would be partially disappointed. There would be some pain, Creed would insist, but the physical damage Remy would sustain would be far less than Erik expected. Then again, Remy mused, the man wasn’t that stupid. It was quite possible the physical pain wasn’t what the silver haired mutant was after, and would be merely a bonus.

 

He could survive this; had done so before as memories from a distant time came forward to remind him. The single dull yellow street lamp, with its hordes of worshipping insects buzzing around the bulb, was the only illumination on the glass case of a side street bookstore in the middle of the night. But it was enough light for a street rat, whose only escape from the shadows of despair was pure imagination. It was with wide eyed wonder that a young boy stared at the cover art of historical and illustrative books on display, melding the scenes from each into a single sanctuary deep within him. It was an inner sanctum he would visit time and time again to help him deal with the harsh realities of his life.

 

Remy’s mind began to close and slip away; escaping to the haven deep within that he had created in the early stages of his life. He was vaguely aware of the feel and sound of clothing being ripped by talon-like claws, tearing away fabric as well as the tender skin underneath, leaving ravines of varying depths within the flesh from which blood began to seep and run. Slowly, the dark pain of reality faded to brilliant sunshine as he walked among magnolia trees, pecan trees and majestic old oaks with moss draping down through the limbs and swaying with a gentle breeze. The air was fresh, sweet with innocence and undisturbed by the taint of man. Carpet like grass tickled under bare feet as the melodies of birds and the crunch of pecan shells filled his ears. As Creed gave him a perfunctory prelude kiss to the inevitable act, the nutty taste of the fruit was the flavor tantalizing his tongue in the depths of his mind. And as his body was rocked to the sounds of grunting, it was an old wooden bench rope swing hanging from a massive oak limb that creaked and groaned with his weight as it lazily swung him among swirling magnolia petals. It was a utopian place he pictured in his mind, and it would cradle him safely through the next few hours.

 

End ch 26

*********


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See primary disclaimers, notes, and warnings in first chapter.
> 
> Notes #2: The idea of Remy being allergic to aspirin, such that it acts like a tranquilizer, is not mine. I've read it in several X-men fics in the past, so I'm unsure who invented the idea. I'm also unsure if it's cannon or fannon (though I tend to think it's fannon). If anyone knows the original author who penned the idea first, please let me know so I might credit that person. Also, the views/opinions expressed by Remy regarding shelters strictly belong to the character within the realms of this story, and do not necessarily reflect on community centers/shelters in real life. Thanks goes to BJ for reading over this chapter for me, to let me know if it felt right within the confines of the story.
> 
> Also, I tend to thicken Remy's accent, when he's stressed or upset.

Magneto stood outside the closed door for a moment, staring at the metal plating.  On the other side, he knew what he would find and, for a moment, was conflicted.  Sometimes he felt there were two polar opposite personalities within him that constantly warred with each other.  It was almost laughable to think he might be schizophrenic, but it was truly one of the best ways to explain it.  There was a time, a distance memory perhaps, when he was a completely different person in both thought and action.  In his youth, he would never have imagined that his life would turn out the way it had.  But, wars and prejudice had changed him.  He could no longer afford to be the naïve fool of his misspent youth.  He wondered, though, when he became the type of person he generally loathed; the type that would use and abuse one of his own to obtain a sought after goal?  One part of his mind said it was wrong to hurt another of his ilk to achieve his objectives.  Yet, the dark side of his psyche railed against the moral complex being presented, demanding that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, and that it was necessary to step on a few toes if the end result benefited the majority.  It was all about choices – who would succeed, and who would pay the price for that success.  But the irony of it all almost made him cackle with maniacal laughter.  In order to free his people from the mundanes who would play judge, jury and executioner, he himself had become those very things.

 

When had he changed so much?

 

He shook his head to clear his mind.  It was too late to have second thoughts on the matter.  What was done was done.  He had made a deal with the madman that owned the boy he had just allowed Creed to punish.  The time to seek redemption and forgiveness, to face the consequence of choices, would eventually come.  Ruthlessly, he shoved his moral complex to the furthest corners of his mind and let his darker side come forth. 

 

As he pushed the door open and stood at the threshold, Erik drank in the sight of the defeated figure across the room.  Remy sat back on his knees, the metal covered hands resting between his legs and his head bowed low such that locks of auburn colored hair hid his face from view.  The remnants of his pants started mid thigh and snaked around his legs in strips to end at exposed ankles.  Scratch marked hips and buttocks were completely exposed, but his modesty was preserved behind his arms.  The shirt the Cajun had worn was nothing but tattered cloth clinging over one shoulder by a thin thread and ripped along the other side to reveal a well sculpted, albeit battered and scored, chest and back.  The sleeves of the shirt were now nothing more than arm warmers that pooled around his wrist and forearms.  Erik had to suppress the moan that arose unbidden at the erotic sight of that beautiful body claimed and marked.  The creature before him was one of the very few that had ever stirred his blood to near frenzy with desire. 

 

Magneto moved to stand over the Cajun, breathing in the intoxicating smell of sex and blood with a smirk on his face.  “You look thoroughly debauched, my boy.”

 

Remy said nothing, not even raising his head to look at the man, and Magneto frowned.  He wasn’t sure what he had expected from the boy, but lack of acknowledgement to his presence was not it.  It angered Erik to feel dismissed by the young man at his feet.  Crouching so that he could be at eye level should the Cajun raise his head, Magneto reached out one gloved hand and grabbed the hair at the back of Remy’s head to force him to look up into the steel blue orbs of the master of magnetism.  “Understand this, if you fail me again, Creed won’t be the only one to partake of your flesh.  And your master is quite displeased with you.  As his servant, your actions reflect directly on him.  He has assured me that I may do with you as I will, short of killing you, if something like this happens again.” 

 

There was almost a perverse satisfaction at seeing the flare of anger in those crystal ruby eyes.  The urge to lean forward just another inch and capture the kiss bruised lips of the boy was overwhelming and Magneto recognized that some of his feelings were being manipulated by the unrestrained talents of the exhausted and hurting Cajun.  One deep breath, then another, until he was again in control, then Erik released the hold on Remy’s hair and moved his gaze to the metal block imprisoning the younger mutant’s hands.  The fingers of both hands spread over the metal, his concentration heavy as he forced the two pieces to separate once again and free the trapped boy.  When the metal pieces finally detached with an audible clink, flying apart as if being repelled by one another, Remy gasped and groaned in pain at the pinprick sensations of returning circulation to the previously numb digits.  Remy’s fingers were frozen in a clawed position.  The pain and effort to straighten his fingers showed on his face.  He quickly raised both arms to his chest, bending at the waist to cradle his hands in a fetal-like position as he worked through the agony.

 

Magneto’s eyes softened, chagrined for a moment at the damage his impromptu imprisonment idea had caused to the boy’s hands, no matter how temporary.  Almost he reached to grasp and massage them to encourage the blood flow to return less painfully.  But that moment was fleeting as he reminded himself just why the young mutant had been punished.  Standing rapidly, Magneto sneered down at the Cajun for a moment, before turning to head to his desk.  “You will return to the mansion, now, and complete your mission as quickly as possible.  I grow tired of the delays.” 

 

A drawer was opened in the bottom right side of the desk and Erik pulled a bundle from inside.  “Put on these clothes.  Do not bother to wash beforehand.  You will need them to believe your story, to explain your late night.  The best way to come across as a whore is to look and smell like one.”  He threw the loose bundle, hitting the Cajun in the head such that Remy flinched at the contact.  As he made his way to the door, he paused when he finally heard the boy speak.

 

“Ain’t a ho’e”  Remy whispered, his forehead still resting on his knee as he continued to cradle his hands to his chest.

 

Magneto regarded the young mutant for a moment.  “What you choose to believe is of no consequence.  It is only important what they believe.  And a lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths.”  Then, he was gone.

 

After a while, the feeling was fully returned to Remy’s hands and fingers; the pain simply another dull ache among many.  He stood slowly, categorizing all the wounds on his body as he manipulated unsteady legs into the oversized pants that Magneto had given him.  Looking down at the outfit he’d been given, he wrinkled his nose at the ill fitting garments.  “Not my style...seriously.”  But there was little he could do, having nothing else to wear. 

 

The late night ride back to the mansion was torturous.  The bumping vibrations of the motorcycle sent slivers of pain through his tormented body, reminding him continuously of the activities of the last few hours.  Several times, Remy wanted to pull over to the side of the road to rest.  It was only the realization that once he stopped he wouldn’t be able to continue that kept him from succumbing to that desire.  As he reached the long driveway leading to the mansion, he pondered what he might tell anyone that asked his whereabouts.  He had been gone since the previous afternoon he had spent with Logan.  If he was lucky, Remy mused, nobody missed him.  As much as it galled him,  however, he thought that Magneto was probably correct, and that he should let them assume what they wanted simply by his appearance. 

 

After parking the bike in the garage at the side of the main house, Remy decided to make his way around to the front door.  Going through the kitchen would attract more attention than he wanted if anyone was on a midnight pantry raid or if the Professor was in his office, which shared a wall with one side of that room.  The last thing he expected, as he walked through the front door at such a late hour, was to see several team members in the den just to the side of the entrance hall.  It was rare for them to be up at this hour and gathered in such a way.  The room contained the winged mutant that had such animosity for him, as well as his British partner, Bobby and Logan.  At first his thoughts were to avoid the room and try to ghost by it towards the stairs.  But, Remy was moving too slow and awkward for that.  In the end, his choice was taken from him when he saw that Logan and Worthington both noticed him.  The looks on their faces were a study in contrast: one welcoming and worried, the other full of contempt and disdain. 

 

Logan moved from where he had been standing in the corner to come closer to the boy, as Remy maneuvered his reluctant body to the threshold of the room.  It was only a moment before all the members present turned to look at him, varying emotions coming from all and making his stomach churn.  Remy knew what he looked like, and from the reflections mirrored on their faces and in their projected feelings, knew what they were thinking about him at this moment.   

 

Though Logan’s mouth was working, as if he wanted to say something or ask a question, it was Bobby that spoke first.  “Hey, Remy!  Where’ve you been?  Logan’s been worried sick about you.”  Bobby ignored the glare the feral sent his way, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he took in the disheveled state of his team mate.  “Are you alright?  You look...” he trailed off.

 

Before Remy could answer, Warren rose from his chair and approached the boy with barely concealed anger.  “Now I recognize you.  You’re a whore.  You used to sell your body to anyone that was willing in the French Quarter.” Warren sneered.

 

Remy stared at him blankly, giving nothing away while inside his gut twisted.  “You don’ know not'ing ‘bout me.  What make you t’ink dat I was a ho’e?”

 

“BECAUSE YOU FUCKED MY FATHER!” Warren screamed, his face red with rage.  Remy blanched at the accusation, the denial on the tip of his tongue, before Warren continued.  “You don’t remember, do you?  We were both kids.  My dad brought me with him on his business trip to New Orleans.  He picked you up and brought you back to the hotel.  He introduced you to me as a special friend, telling me your name was Diable.  It was only later I understood that word meant devil.” Warren spat, as if repeating the much hated name was vile to him.  “He told us to play together, then we all ate together.  We watched the television and played one of my board games.  And later that evening, the nanny came to take me to bed.  Only you didn’t go with me.  It wasn’t a slumber party for me.  You stayed with him.  I saw him put his arm around your shoulders, like you were some kind of possession.  And I HATED you in that moment, because you had all his attention, while he was sending me away.”  Warren stepped forward into Remy’s personal space.  “But I wasn’t the naïve little boy he thought I was.  I knew what he wanted to do with you, what the two of you did after I left.”  There was a sneer on his face as he brought it to within centimeters of Remy’s.  Almost, their noses touched. 

 

“You...You really did that, Remy?” It was a soft question, only heard because of the stillness in the room.  Bobby looked up at the Cajun from where he sat, his eyes wide and shining. 

 

Without turning to look at him, never breaking the staring contest he was holding with the winged warrior, Remy answered.  “Boy gotta eat some kinda way, Bobby.”

 

The ice man’s brows furrowed.  “But-But they have shelters for that kind of thing.  Why didn’t you go to one of the shelters?  You didn’t have to do that when there are places you could have gone.”

 

Remy snorted.  “Remy be safer wit’ de one night stands.  In de shelter, ain’t so easy to escape when dey come to take you.”

 

“Take?  But, that’s not right.  The shelters are safe places for homeless.  You would have been...”

 

Remy finally broke eye contact and pierced Bobby’s baby blues, interrupting the boy’s utopia speech.  “Must be nice to live in yor world, homme.  Tell me, do pink fluffy bunnies live dere, too?”

 

“Don’t take this out on him, you piece of trash!”  Warren shoved a finger hard into Remy’s chest, causing the Cajun to involuntarily step back to regain his balance. 

 

“Warren, that’s enough.” Betsy spoke up, concerned at the tension radiating off both men.  The den was no place for an all out brawl between two powerful mutants. 

 

The winged mutant turned to his girlfriend.  “He IS trash.  He sucks and fucks his way through life.”

 

Remy bristled.  “At least ho’ing be a honest way to earn it, homme.  Y' know what y' gettin’ for de money.  Can’t say de same for dem dat run big mega-corporations.  We all ho’es one way or de ot’er, whet’er we selling our bodies for food, or our souls for money.”

 

Warren rounded on him.  “How dare you compare me to you, punk.” 

 

Logan had been standing to the side, letting this play out, until he saw Warren take a step towards Remy with clenched fists.  He deftly moved between them and pushed the winged mutant back.  ”Shut the fuck up, fly-boy.  You wipe yer ass the same as him or me.”  Logan paused and took a deep sniff melodramatically in the direction of the winged mutant, then crinkled his nose with a little snort of disgust.  “Unless ya got some kink ya ain’t told us about.”  He let the implication sink in.

 

Worthington fumed.  Remy watched him with a sort of detached vision, seeing the man turn almost purple with anger.  He nearly laughed out loud as he imagined the man as a cartoon character, complete with steam coming out of his ears.  And suddenly, it dawned on him that the golden boy wasn’t so golden. 

 

Remy turned and began to leave the room.  Warren noticed and angrily called after him.  “Hey!  Come back here.  This conversation isn’t over.”

 

The Cajun kept walking, briefly turning his head to throw back a reply over his shoulder.  “It sho’ ‘nuff is.  Remy goin’ ta bed.”

 

Logan waited the span of a heartbeat, before he too turned to follow the boy.  Betsy clasped Logan’s arm to stop him from leaving. “Got to be careful of pretty packages, luv.  They’re usually full of trouble.” 

 

Logan looked down at the perfectly manicured hand, then slowly raised his head.  His eyes flickered to the golden Adonis with a rigid white-winged back standing a few feet behind her, before turning his gaze back to her.  “Could say the same thing to you, darlin’.”  And with that, he shook off her hold and left the room.

 

He watched as the Cajun carefully climbed the stairs, moving like an arthritic old man.  He said nothing until they reached their floor, stopping when the boy stopped.  “Wha’ y' want, Logan.  Why y' following?”

 

“Wanted to see if ya need any help.” He answered, his voice carefully neutral.

 

Blue eyes watched as the shoulders of the young man in front of him straightened defensively.  Almost, a visible wall could be seen building around the boy.  Remy turned to look at the older man, a seductive smile in place.  If Magneto wanted him to play the whore, then that’s exactly what he would do.  He was too tired to fight anymore, and it seemed it was all he was capable of doing.  “Or maybe, y' wanna taste o' Remy?  Hmm?”  Slowly, his hand ran across the fabric of his shirt, along the contours of his chest, licking his lips in wanton invitation.  It was detached, hollow, and it infuriated the feral that the boy would act that way towards him.

 

Logan backed him fiercely against the wall, and in one swift motion plunged his hand into loose pants, grabbing the boy at the root with a hard squeeze.  Remy cried out, pain tears stinging the corners of his eyes.  “Ya trying to tell me that this is all yer about?”

 

“Remy be made only fo' sex.”  His hands weakly grasped Logan’s forearm and elbow, desperate for the older mutant to release his vice-like grip.

 

Logan squeezed harder.  “Who’s made for sex?”

 

“R-Rem...aaah”  Remy screamed as Logan gave two harsh tugs. “I...I was.”

 

“Bullshit.”  Logan relaxed his hold slightly, easing off some of the pressure, but not releasing.  “Who fed ya that line of crap?”  At the lack of response from the younger man, Logan snorted in frustration and withdrew his hand from the boy’s pants.

 

Remy slid down the wall, staring at a spot on the ceiling above Logan’s head, unable to look into those hardened eyes as tears slowly ran from his own.  Logan crouched in front of him, wrists dangling off knees as he studied the boy and catalogued the smell of an unknown person’s presence on Remy’s body.  “Don’t lie to me, Cajun.  I can see right through ya.”  At the tensing of Remy’s body and a twitch in his jaw, Logan clarified.  “I ain’t no damn telepath, if that’s what yer thinking.  Yer not so difficult to read, ya know.  It’s obvious to anyone willing to see it that yer dealing with some unpleasant shit that’s got ya all twisted up inside.  Seems to me ya got two choices.  Continue down this self-destructive path yer on, or take the fork in the road that we’re offering ya.”  Logan’s eyes softened and he gently ran the back of one finger down Remy’s cheek, until ruby eyes lowered to look at him.  “I, for one, know which path I hope ya choose.” He said softly.  Remy could only stare in wonder at the man, seeing more in those piercing blue eyes than was said in words. 

 

Logan let his finger linger another moment, before standing up.  “Now, go take a shower.  From what I smell, yer in pain.”  

 

Remy gusted a humorless laugh.  “Dieu, you can smell pain?” he asked incredulously.

 

Logan sighed inwardly.  Hadn’t they already discussed this once before?  “Can’t smell pain, kid.  But I can smell blood.  I won’t ask.  I figger yer a big boy.  And since yer walking and talking...” he shrugged, attempting to feign unconcern as he let the verbal thought trail off, reaching a hand down to help the Cajun rise.  Remy wasn’t fooled.

 

He accepted the aid and stood as gracefully as possible, his hand lingering in the feral’s as he stared into those ocean colored orbs.  “T’anks” he said quietly, squeezing the older man’s hand before releasing it to move towards his room.  It didn’t take him long to gather a change of clothes, before heading to the shower.  Logan seemed to have disappeared somewhere, and Remy wavered between relief and disappointment.  As he entered the shower, he couldn’t look at the mirror to his right.  The over-sized, well-worn clothes that Magneto had given him were quickly removed and Remy stepped toward the stall.

 

He stood under the spray and let the water wash it all away.  At that moment, he couldn't care less if he used all of the hot water in the tanks that Logan had so affectionately named.  Big Bertha and Oz could blow gaskets as far as he was concerned.  The only thing that mattered was the burn on his skin, the peeling away of the outermost layers to remove the filth that clung to him.  If he thought it wouldn’t draw even more attention and uncomfortable questions from the others, he would have scrubbed himself raw.  As it was though, he had to be content with the reddening that the slightly scalding temperatures would produce, knowing it would most likely fade through the night.

 

Remy wasn’t sure how much time passed, but as the water slowly cooled, he finally reached to shut off the valves, smirking at the fact that anyone else taking a shower in the near future would only enjoy lukewarm water at best.  Stepping from the stall, he quickly dried himself with a towel and then stared at himself in the mirror, a study of disgust and despair on his face.  Creed had done a thorough job.  Bruises in the shape of handprints were darkening under the heat agitated skin.  Claw marks of varying depths ran in places on his hips and thighs, some slowly oozing anew, having been reopened under the assault of the shower.  A surge of anger rose from deep within and Remy balled his fist, pulling his arm back and throwing it full force towards the glass.  It was sheer willpower that stayed his punch at the last moment, his fisted hand trembling at the effort.  Fingers slowly unclenched and gingerly touched the mirror.  What good would it do to shatter his image? 

 

A heavy sigh escaped his throat as he tore his gaze away from the creature staring back at him.  He could keep this hidden from the others.  It wouldn’t take too long to heal.  And as long as Logan didn’t expect anything from him...that thought brought a whole new level of pain.  Logan deserved better, though the older man would be the first to admit he himself was no saint.  Remy sighed again and pulled on a long sleeve jersey and the flannel pajama pants that Bobby loaned him once before.  The ice mutant was a good bit shorter than Remy, and the Cajun couldn’t help but chuckle as he glanced down at his naked ankles and feet.  At least the skin there was unmarked.  Dieu, he was tired.

 

He stepped from the bathroom and made his way down the hall, eyes focused on the floor directly in front of his step as his thoughts whirled.  It was only as he neared his room that he looked up and saw the feral casually leaning against his doorframe with crossed arms.  Remy’s step faltered for a moment, before he pulled up his mask and closed the distance.  “Gonna tuck me in, cher?” he asked nonchalantly.

 

The edges of Logan’s lips turned up as he pushed away from the wall.  “Maybe...here.”  He held out a hand, palm side up, to expose two white rounded pills.

 

Remy frowned when he recognized what they were.  “Tol’ y', homme.  Allergic to aspirin.”

 

“I know what ya said and I think ya need to sleep.  Take ‘em.”  He thrust the pills forward into Remy’s personal space.

 

The Cajun floundered, unsure of what to say, and finally settled on the truth.  “Logan, cher, can’t keep my shields up if I take dem.  De telepat’s...”

 

“Won’t do nothin’.”  Logan interrupted.  “I’m gonna sit with ya and be yer shield.  Even Betsy won’t try it while I’m in here.”

 

Remy could only stare at him, overwhelmed by what the older man was offering.  The conflict was clearly written all over Remy’s face, but Logan waited patiently.  The Cajun knew the man wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  “D’accord.” He finally decided and popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry and making a face at the sour taste.  He slipped under the covers quietly, unable to relax fully, all too aware of the older man’s presence.  At some point, Logan had pulled another, more comfortable chair into Remy’s room – one that could easily accommodate his mass – and sat back with a book in hand.  The fact that he wasn’t questioning made Remy apprehensive, feelings of guilt surfacing.  He truly couldn’t afford to feel such things as the aspirin began to take effect.  So, he decided to purge himself.  “I made a mistake, Logan, and paid de price.”

 

Logan glanced up from the page he was reading.  “Ya wanna talk ‘bout it, Cajun?”

 

“Non” he whispered, irritated at himself for the moisture he could feel gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

 

Logan didn’t push for details and politely ignored the sudden smell of salty water coming from the direction of the boy’s exotic eyes.  Instead he asked “Are ya gonna be okay, Remy, or do I gotta break my foot off in someone’s ass?”

 

That made the Cajun chuckle, his imagination running wild with visions of his feral literally shoving his massive foot up Creed’s ass, showing the bastard exactly what it felt like to have something big and unforgiving tearing him up inside.  It was a satisfying vision as far as Remy was concerned.  “Ain’t necessary, Logan.  Re...I’ll be fine.”

 

End ch 27


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See primary disclaimers, notes, and warnings in first chapter. 
> 
> Notes #2: Death of minor OC's in this chapter, descriptions of violent death & some gore. Possible incorrect science facts within the chapter - I'm not a medical person and the information listed came from various websites. Possible incorrect use of nerve pinching technique. I was too lazy to look it up, so I went with Mr. Spock's version of the Vulcan nerve pinch.

The dream had the essence of familiarity. It swirled around him in black, white, and shades of gray. There was no color to be found, only pockets of fog and smoke as he drifted through a seemingly endless void. Periodically, there were snatches of scenes at the edge of his peripheral vision, enough to catch his attention but gone as soon as he turned to look more closely. In front of him, a life-sized playing card appeared and hovered slightly above the obscure ground. It was the king of diamonds, the only one of that face card in profile and armed with an ax, instead of a sword. The one eye shined a brilliant red, as did the diamonds, and the Cajun froze in his spot. Remy knew this place. It was his memories of the past, but it wasn’t. It was his hopes and fantasies, but not. It was a landscape of his creation, yet artificially planted. And it could mean only one thing – his master was here.

Standing perfectly still on an ever shifting foundation, Remy closed his eyes and whispered. “Maître”.

“Very good. You’re getting much better at detecting my presence.” An image of Sinister stepped from the shadows of the card and smirked down at the boy in front of him. It was always such in the dreams, his master towering over him like some kind of demigod. “But, I’m rather disappointed at the ease with which I penetrated your shields, boy. Pray tell, are you having troubles controlling yourself?” He asked with a clinical note, ready to record data with all the interest of a researcher. “Describe the problems to me in great detail, would you?”

A dark ribbon rippled through the nebulous fog surrounding them, as Remy gritted his teeth and said nothing. Sinister smiled a full set of gleaming, sharp teeth as he watched the interesting effect of the boy’s anger on this mindscape. He moved as if gliding on air, until he stood shoulder to shoulder with his toy, facing the opposite direction and eyeing the terrain as if searching for something. In retrospect, he probably was, Remy mused. “My, my. Even with your lowered shields, I am still unable to access all of your thoughts.” Essex reached out with one claw-like metallic hand and touched the wisps of fog surrounding them, as if he could grab hold of the cloud-like mists and absorb the boy’s mind. “I must arrange some time for you to join me in the lab. It’s been far too long since I’ve done any measurements. Now that the blocks have been mostly weakened or removed, I’m anxious to try all sorts of tests.”

Remy’s mental body shuddered at the underlying glee in his master’s tone, dreading the day the man carried out his promise. To find himself on Essex’s operating table was a fate worse than death, and one he had experienced too many times. Sinister continued to study the dreamscape surrounding them, peering intently into the murk to try and glimpse different bits or pieces of memory. There was a tense silence between them for many long minutes, before the master spoke again. “Tell me, Remy. Why did I have to endure an audience with a rather agitated Lensherr?” Essex turned his head to peer at the boy beside him. “He seemed quite adamant that you are purposefully failing at your mission. Is this true?”

The illusory tongue in his mouth seemed overly large and cumbersome, as Remy attempted to project a stuttering answer. “N...non.”

The intense scrutiny from the scientist made his corporal skin itch and it took all of Remy’s concentration to keep his dream self from trembling. “I am somewhat disappointed, but not at all surprised that you are having difficulty with the assignment.” Essex scolded. “One of your many flaws has always been your tendency to empathize with your victims, until their story becomes your crusade. It makes you weak and keeps you from ascending to a level I know you are capable of.”

An imaginary muscle twitched in the jaw of Remy’s mental image, as he forced himself not to respond. Sinister’s projected image continued to move around the landscape, pausing in intervals to gaze intently into the darkened recesses. The air, that wasn’t truly there, seemed to crackle with his presence, surrounding and contracting around Remy’s mindself tensely, like a snake wraps around to strangle its prey. The longer the scientist loitered about, ignoring Remy and speaking not a word, the larger the knot of apprehension grew within the pit of his stomach. It made the muscles of his real world body twitch, as if caught in the grips of a nightmare. Finally, Essex turned his full attention to the image of his toy. Many people had called Remy a white devil when he was a boy; preternatural eyes giving him the appearance of one. But, the glow of his red orbs paled in comparison to the brilliance that shown from the scientist’s when he was truly angered.

“When I have given one of my servants over to an associate to perform a task of their choosing, I expect my servant to fulfill those duties to that associate's satisfaction and beyond.” The man began, his mind voice unnaturally calm as he loomed over Remy. “I loaned your services to Lensherr, and your failure to satisfy his needs reflects directly on me.” The mindscape rippled under the deep baritone of his voice, as Essex glared at the boy.

They stood there, staring at one another for what seemed an eternity, before Sinister turned his back on Remy and began moving towards the large playing card that represented the doorway to Remy’s mind. At the threshold of the shadow of the card, Essex paused and glanced back at the Cajun over his shoulder. “Perhaps you have been too distracted to perform the job you have been given. I believe the only way you'll learn a lesson on obedience is if those distractions are removed.” For a brief moment, memories flickered around Remy as Essex disappeared through the doorway. He caught snatches of the scenes, before they faded into the background of his waking conscious.  
  
Remy's eyes flew open and he gasped, one arm outstretched and reaching for the ceiling as his eyes slowly focused into awareness. The sound of his frantic heartbeat thundered in his ears, as sweat beaded on his forehead. What had happened? Even as he reached for the last vestiges of the dream, it was already lost to him. What had it been about? All he could recall was cold fear, and a sense of failure. For some reason, there was an anxious feeling, as if something desperately needed his attention before it was too late. Like an itch that couldn’t be scratched, he could not put a finger on what was causing the anxiety. Looking around, it took him a moment to realize he was in his room at the mansion. As he started to sit up, a knock on the door took his attention a moment before it opened to reveal the feral entering the room with a tray of food.

Logan paused at the slightly panicked look on the boy’s face. “Hey” he said softly, before moving to put the tray on the nightstand. He sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly reached up to place the back of his hand against Remy’s forehead, careful not to startle the Cajun. “How ya feeling?”

Clearing his throat, Remy leaned back against the headboard. “Tired.”

He didn’t expect the older man to snort at him. “Well, seein’ as ya been asleep for damn near two days, I’m a bit surprised to hear that.” Logan registered the shock on the Cajun’s face, then gave him a reassuring smile. “Here, ya need to eat somethin’.”

“Two days? Two days!?” Remy repeated. “How did...merde, de damn aspirin. I tol’ you.”

It was hard for Logan to suppress a chuckle at the pouting scowl on the boy’s face. As it was, he continued to grin like a Cheshire cat. But, a quick reminder of the worry he’d felt when the boy didn’t wake up after a day made his smile fade, and he reached for the plate of food to hand Remy. “I know what ya said. I ain’t gonna apologize for that, not when it was obvious that ya needed it.” He glared at Remy until the boy started to eat.

It didn’t take long for Remy’s stomach to overrule his irritation, and he dove into the food with gusto. In between bites, Remy did a quick survey of his body to find that he was relatively clean, despite being dead to the world for two days. The human body still has needs that must be met. Remy glanced up at the feral, slightly embarrassed to ask the questions that were on his mind. Logan seemed to understand. “It wasn’t a problem. I took care of everything while you were out.”

Remy paused in his eating, not quite able to look in the older man’s eyes. “T’anks, mon ami.”

“Well, don’t thank me just yet.” At the startled expression on the kid’s face, Logan quickly explained. “I was worried ‘bout ya, Remy. I had Blue come in and check on ya.” As he watched the Cajun’s face drain of color, Logan sighed in frustration. “Look, I’m sorry, kid. But, I wanted to make sure I hadn’t overdosed ya. Hank’s a good man. I trust ‘im.”

Remy swallowed hard. “Wha...what’id he say?”

“That you’d be sore a coupla days, but no real damage.” Logan reached out and brushed back some of the stray locks that fell in Remy’s face, much as he’d been doing the whole time he stood guard over the boy. Blue eyes dilated and a warm feeling suffused the feral’s chest as he watched the Cajun subtly turn his face into the caress. “Remy...I...”

_/Gambit, now that you are awake, I need to see you alone in my office as soon as you are able./_

Logan and Remy both stiffened at the mental summons from the Professor. They stared at one another for a few moments, before Logan stood and offered a hand to the Cajun. “C’mon, a shower’d make ya feel better.”

And the feral was right. The spray of the water, as it beat down on his back and shoulders, did wonders to loosen up his stiff muscles. The steam rising from the heat suffused his nose and mouth, and he breathed deep, allowing the moist warmth to travel deep into his lungs. He struggled to remember those last few moments before he woke. It was a nagging sensation at the base of his skull, demanding his attention yet remaining elusive. A heavy sigh and one last rinse was all he could give himself, before reaching to turn off the flow. Short work was made of drying his skin and hair, before donning some clothes to head for the Professor’s study.

Despite his best efforts to trudge slowly down the stairs and along the hallway, he was, all too soon, faced with the heavy wooden door that lead to Xavier’s domain. Before he could raise his hand to knock, he heard the Professor call to him. Nervous knots formed in his belly at the anticipated lecture. He didn’t recall much of the argument from...was it two days ago? It was a bit hard to believe that he had slept so deeply for that length of time. As much as he wanted to worry about the telepaths reading his thoughts while he was essentially comatose, he trusted his lover when the older man promised to shield him. That, in itself, gave him pause. Since when had Remy trusted anyone?

The door opened with the turn of the knob and Remy stepped inside. It took him a moment to overcome his surprise at what awaited him. The Professor sat behind his desk, elbows resting on the desk and his hands steepled in front of his face as he stared at the Cajun. Standing to the Professor’s right, holding a folder in one giant hand, was Hank.

“Please, sit down, Remy.” Xavier gestured toward one of the chairs in front of the desk. Remy moved to the indicated spot and made himself as comfortable as possible while he waited for whatever scolding he presumed he was about to receive. He glanced a few times in the doctor’s direction, but Hank was focused on a spot on the Professor’s desk, his own carefully constructed blank mask in place as he let the Professor do all the talking.

“Are you feeling better? I understand from the doctor that your...wounds were relatively minor.” The pause in the Professor’s statement made Remy’s heart beat faster as he looked sharply at the doctor. For his part, Hank appeared relatively contrite, but still would not meet Remy’s eyes.

Chagrined at the obvious lack of patient confidentiality, Remy scowled as he shifted minutely in the chair. “Tol’ you before, homme. Remy heals pretty quick.”

“And I told you that I would do whatever is necessary to protect my charges.” Xavier’s eyes hardened as he looked at the boy, his hands folding to a more relaxed pose on the desk. “You’ve been hiding something from us. I’ve let it slide, hoping that you would come to trust us enough to share. But, you’ve been with us for months. We have shared our secrets with you. And now, it is time for you to come clean.”

Remy stared at the man; his face expressionless and showing none of the inner turmoil swirling in his mind like a tornado. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, but he ignored it with an iron will. “Don’ know what you mean.”

“I think you know exactly what I mean. This,” Xavier casually waved a hand towards the folder in Hank’s paw, “is the results of your blood work that we sent to Muir Island months ago.”

Remy resisted the urge to bite his lip as he turned his gaze towards the doctor. Hank adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “The reason it has taken so long, distance and lack of any other mutant research facilities notwithstanding, is that the data we received was somewhat...baffling.” He opened the folder and glanced down at the contents, before speaking again. “So, I asked them to rerun all the tests. However, the facts are indisputable. This is not your blood.”

It was all he could do to keep the panic from showing as he replied. “Dat’s ridiculous. Of course, it mine. You took de sample yorself.”

“Well, yes I did draw your blood, but this is not the blood I drew.”

Remy cocked his head to one side and let a confused expression cross his face. “Hehn?”

“I’m saying, this can’t be your blood.”

“Yeh, it is. Dey must be wrong.”

“No, they aren’t wrong. This isn’t your blood.”

“It is. De equipment musta been faulty.”

Hank was becoming exasperated. “No, it wasn’t the equipment, Remy. This is not your blood.”

“Is, too.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Is.”

“No.”

“Oui.”

“I’m telling you it’s not.”

“I’m telling you it is.”

“Why are you denying it?”

“What make you t’ink it not mine?”

The slamming of the Professor’s hand on the wooden desk startled both Remy and the doctor, as their wide eyes snapped towards the telepath. Xavier looked directly into those ruby eyes as he growled. “Because, you are not a hermaphrodite.”

All of the color drained from the Cajun’s face as he processed the Professor’s words and the anger in his voice. A quick peek at the doctor confirmed what the older man had just said. _/Merde. Dimitri never tol’ me dat./_ The silence in the office was oppressive. Xavier closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself in the wake of Remy’s reaction. The boy looked near faint, and the Professor could almost feel the fear pouring out of the younger mutant. The telepath swallowed hard, visibly shaken by his own loss of control, and leaned back in his chair. When his eyes once again opened, there was only a look of disappointment in his gaze. “Remy...” He waited until the Cajun finally focused on him, before continuing. “The paperwork does not lie.” The implied _/unlike you/_ hung in the air between them.

Hank cleared his throat again to garner the attention of both men. “You see, Gambit. We ran DNA tests on the samples I collected from you. It is something we do for all mutants that we treat. Our genomes are so unique, that it is necessary to study and classify as many different genes as we find. It is potentially crucial to our very survival.” He proceeded to flip through a few of the pages within the folder, as he adjusted his glasses. “In your case, we denoted two populations of cells with different genotypes. It appears the genotypes arose from more than one zygote, effectively making this a blood sample from a chimera. Different sets of chromosomes were detected and the DNA testing showed that the blastocysts are of the opposite sex.” At the glazed expression in the boy’s eyes, Hank decided to end the science lesson with a heavy sigh. “Basically, the owner of this sample has ambiguous genitalia or hermaphroditism, or perhaps, a combination of both.” A tilt of his big, blue head had him peering at the Cajun over the top of his glasses. “I’ve seen your genitalia, Remy. It is neither ambiguous, nor hermaphroditic.”

That actually brought a smirk to Gambit’s face. He was about to retort, when he was suddenly struck with a wave of agonizing terror and despair. Pain, like he had never felt before, had him bending over to place his head between his knees to stave off the intense nausea that arose in his stomach. The Professor cried out and grasped his head in both hands. Hank was stunned into immobility, torn between reaching out to the Cajun or seeing to Xavier. From somewhere else in the mansion, the screams of one of the other telepaths in residence could be heard along with a thump above their heads; one of the women must have collapsed to the floor.

No sooner had the wave hit Remy, than it was gone. He managed to gain control over himself and sit back in the chair; face pale and breathing raggedly for a moment as he stared at the two men on the opposite side of the table. Hank was huddled over Xavier, one big blue hand on the back of the chair while the other gently patted the professor’s arm. “Quoi ça dit, Monsieur Bête?”

“I’m not sure, my young Acadian friend.” Hank’s worried eyes measured the slumped figure below him. “Charles? Charles! Can you hear me?”

A few heartbeats later, the Professor shuddered and grabbed Hank’s arm, using it to help raise himself upright. “I...I’m fine. There was suddenly a...” He paused, fingers to his temple as he focused on Scott’s frantic telepathic call.

_/PROFESSOR! PROFESSOR!/_

_/Calm yourself, Scott. What’s going on?/_

_/Professor! Thank God! It’s Jean. She was using Cerebro to scan for new mutants and suddenly she...oh God...there’s blood!/_

Xavier looked sharply at Hank, before responding. _/Scott! Tell me what happened, where are you?/_

_/She just...suddenly arched out of the chair, screaming. And then she passed out. There’s blood coming out of her nose. Professor, the babies.../_

_/We’re on our way./_

Xavier wheeled his chair from behind the table, the stress and worry in his voice a palpable thing. “Hank, we must get to Cerebro. Jean’s collapsed and bleeding. I imagine that was the telepathic backlash I just experienced.” He scarcely took notice of the Cajun.

Hank rushed after the man, glancing back briefly to the boy as he threw over his shoulder, “Gambit, please check on Betsy. I heard her fall upstairs.” Remy didn’t question how the doctor knew exactly which telepath had hit the floor above them. All he was truly aware of was the overwhelming wave of terror he’d experience from Jean; how incredibly powerful those emotions were to have hit him so hard, despite the distance between them.

*********  
They were all summoned to the War Room. At the head of the table sat a grim faced Cyclops with an equally disturbed Xavier. The major players on the team moved quickly and silently to take their seats and waited for the explanations to come. Cyclops stood and turned on the holographic projector in the center of the table, as he began to speak. “A short time ago, as most of you are now aware, Jean encountered something through her telepathy while utilizing Cerebro. It caused a severe traumatic experience to her, and subsequently sent a backlash to the rest of the telepaths on our team.” He gave a short nod to Betsy as she rubbed the forming bruise on her shoulder where she hit the floor earlier. Beside her, Worthington reached out to squeeze her hand.

“Jean is currently unconscious, but stable. The doctor has assured me that the babies are unhurt.” The team leader had to pause for a moment, as he almost choked on the last part of his statement. To cover his need to recollect himself, he reached out to press a few buttons that caused a pinpoint light to appear on the image before them. “We’re not sure exactly what we’re dealing with, only that it was powerful enough to knock out Jean while her telepathy was enhanced within Cerebro.” Moving a laser pen towards the illuminated section of the map, he continued. “It appears the disturbance came from this section of the city. The Professor has scanned the area and can not seem to find anything now. But, this area is riddled with tunnels and caverns from the old subway lines that used to run underground.”

Remy’s chin had been resting in his open palm as he listened to the team leader. But, his eyes grew wider at the last statement Scott made. Understanding was beginning to dawn in those ruby orbs – a snatch of the dream popped into his head, then quickly flitted away.

“We will head out immediately and scour the area in two teams. Team A will...” Scott was interrupted by the anguished whisper coming from the Cajun.

“Mon Dieu. De Morlocks.” Concentration so focused on his sudden realization, he didn’t realize he had uttered the words out loud.

Scott frowned at him. “You have something to add, Gambit?”

The calling of his codename startled Remy from his inner focus. “De...de Morlocks.” He voiced with a little more power.

“Ya mean those people living in the tunnel?” Logan asked in surprise, his face clouding over in something like anger or concern when he saw the boy nod in assent to the question.

Looking back and forth between the two men, Scott felt lost and decided to reassert himself. “What’s this about, Logan?” He then turned his focus to the newest member of the team. “Gambit?”

But, it was the feral that answered the question. “It’s a group of people that Remy’s been looking after. They live in those tunnels. They’re...well, they’re mutants, but unlike us, they can’t pass as normal humans.” He shrugged, not really knowing the Morlocks well enough to venture any further explanations.

Lips pressed together in a fierce line, Cyclops took a moment to reassess the plan. “We’ll start with those tunnels first. Team A will be made up of me, Wolverine, Gambit, Psylocke, and Rogue.”

Rogue looked astonished. “Me?”

The team leader looked at her. “Yes. Storm can not possibly go down into those tunnels with us. You know why.” Ororo opened her mouth to protest, then blushed and looked down at the table. “I need you to absorb her powers. We may need her abilities down there.” At the fear he saw in those emerald eyes, his voice gentled. “We’ve practiced this, Rogue. We all have faith that you can do this.” She felt humbled at the trust she heard in his words and saw in Ororo’s eyes.

“I’m going, too.” Worthington commanded.

Scott glared at him. “No, you’re not.” He held his hand up to halt the protest about to be lodged. “These are enclosed, narrow tunnels, Angel. Your power is in the ability to spread your wings and take flight.” The dour expression on the millionaire’s face pulled at Scott’s conscience. “Besides, Warren. I need you to stay here with Hank and protect the mansion.” Those eyes, somewhere behind the red visor, stared earnestly at the man, willing him to understand what he truly needed his friend to stay and protect.

It only took a moment, and a quick glance at his lover beside him, for Worthington to realize what Scott was requesting. “Yes, of course, Cyclops.” He acquiesced. A silent exchange passed between them. _/I’ll protect yours; you protect mine./_ And, Warren squeezed Betsy’s hand once again.

“The Professor will monitor us on Cerebro. If there is nothing more, let’s get suited up.”

With that, they all filed out of the room with a powerful sense of determination.

*********

Like before when they fought Magneto, they landed silently on the roof of a nearby building. Using repelling ropes to slide down the darkened sides of the building unnoticed, they landed in intervals in an alley and waited for further orders. Disconnecting his harness, Cyclops moved to the front of the team, eyeballing the members to make sure everyone was present and accounted for, before turning his attention to Remy. “Alright, Gambit. You seem to know the area we plan to canvas. You lead the way.”

Remy whirled about, the flutter of his trench coat fanning about him with the sudden movement, and strode with purpose towards a manhole at the far side of the alley. After it was uncovered, several of the team members took a moment to spread a rubbing compound under their noses to overcome the smell that emanated from the hole. Wolverine was not so fortunate, his keen sense needed for tracking, and he reeled from the overwhelming stench. Remy reached out and grabbed his forearm to steady him where they crouched, then leaned forward and whispered soft enough to insure that none of the others could hear. “S’okay, mon amour. Focus on Gambit.” He watched the feral’s nostrils widen as he inhaled deeply of the boy’s scent and used it to ground himself. At the nod he received from the older man, flashlights in hand, he proceeded to lead the team into the tunnels.

They moved slowly, in single file, through the murk. Rogue and Betsy both wrinkled their noses at the slime covered walls, subconsciously hunching their shoulders in an attempt to stay as far away from the filth as possible. As much as it bothered them, they both knew better than to voice any complaints that might give away the team’s position. Several twists and turns later, and Gambit halted the group at the first signs of trouble. Ahead of them, laying face down in a pool of brown and red water was a scratched and beaten body, the clothes torn in various places as testament to what took place. The white blond hair streaked with blood, filth, and other fluids that Remy didn’t want to think about, gave the clues to the body’s identification.

“Dimitri” he gasped, reaching down to verify what he already knew. A perfunctory inspection, and Remy leaped away to run full throttle down the tunnels, panic causing him to pump his legs hard.

“Gambit! Wait!” Scott ordered, but the Cajun was already disappearing from view. “After him! We’ll come back for this one later.” They each took off after the boy, adrenaline pushing them as they splashed through ever changing tunnels and junctions, until they all nearly collided with a suddenly still Gambit standing in the opening of a large cavern.  
  
It was beyond awful. Blood was everywhere, along with various parts of bodies. The claw marks, and scorch prints on the wall, told Remy instantly who had done this. Obviously, the Morlocks had put up one hell of a fight. But, they were peaceful mutants at heart, and battle was not their forte.

“Jeezuz” Logan muttered, as he gingerly stepped over pools of blood. His senses were out of control, the overwhelming smell of death and decay affecting him in the enclosed space of the underground habitat.

Remy was in shock, looking around and trying desperately to recognize members of the tribe through the gore. He moved like an automaton through the carnage. It looked like almost everyone had been here when the attack came. Faces that could be seen were in various frozen displays of horror, pain, fear...he closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him.

“This can’t be real.” Rogue asked in disbelief. Her eyes were showing her what took place, but her mind wasn’t processing it.

The rest of the group disappeared from Remy’s attention as his eyes opened up and focused on three bodies at the very back of the destroyed home. “Non” he whispered as he moved quickly towards the area he now recognized as having been the living quarters for Kale and his family. Coming to a halt, he stared down at the three bodies, his eyes resting on the smallest of the three as he fell to his knees. He reached out and pulled the body into his arms. For all the destruction around him, his only thought was how very much like a porcelain doll she looked at the moment, her glassy eyes staring at the ceiling above, no light in them at all.

“Petite?” he choked. The rest of the team turned towards the Cajun and watched as the scene played out. “Answer me, padnat. It Remy.” He stroked her long curly strands, wrapping a few pieces around a finger as he smiled sadly. “You want Remy should sing for you?” His words shook as he began. “Come with me......and you’ll......be...” A crack in his voice broke through, but he continued, “...in a world of pure im...” He just stopped, a sob finishing the verse. Rocking back and forth, he cried out to the ceiling “NNNAAAHHHHAAHHAA!!!”

Everyone shifted nervously as all of the inanimate objects around them began to glow. Power was building, the thrum of it causing the hairs on their arms to stand at attention; skin prickling with electricity. Betsy gasped and reached a hand up to her temple as she snapped her head simultaneously towards the Cajun. “Wolverine! Subdue Gambit NOW!!” she screamed to the feral.

Logan came up behind the boy and deftly pinched a nerve at the juncture of neck and shoulder. It was a move meant to incapacitate an opponent without bloodshed, an oriental technique learned long ago and seldom used. There were many facets to the man known as Wolverine, and not all of them brutish. And though his team mates rarely saw the non-combative maneuvers of the feral, he relished in the opportunities to utilize the teachings. It rendered the Cajun unconscious within moments. He caught the boy and kneeled behind him, as he warily glanced around. The energy began to dissipate, bleeding out slowly, and several team members released the breaths they were unaware they were holding. Numbly, they all gathered around the feral, and stared in shocked disbelief as the man cradled the younger mutant to him, cooing nonsense as he gently brushed auburn locks away from Gambit’s face. It was too much, the stench of death and the macabre scene threatened to undo them all.

Scott looked at his fellow team mates one by one, as he spoke. “Alright people, we...” his voice broke. He ran fingers through his hair and struggled to find his control. Reaching deep inside himself to find that soldier mentality he needed, he wrapped it around him like a cloak and tried again. Clearing his throat and standing a little straighter, he pinned each member with his eyes, willing his strength on them to shore everyone up. “We need to clean this up and transport the bodies back to the mansion.”

End ch 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Maître - master  
> Quoi ça dit, Monsieur Bête? – What’s happening, Mister Beast?


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes, disclaimers, and warnings in the first chapter
> 
> Notes #2: The lyrics used in this chapter belong to the song ‘Trouble’ by Coldplay. The words on the marker are by Sablerose, who graciously allowed me the use of part of her poem. 
> 
> Reminder:  
> Words between / / are thoughts, mind speak  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs I might use  
> Words between * * are flashbacks, but they are noted that way

Grey.

That was the only thing floating in his mind. Everything was grey. A dull, drab hue, that’s not really in the category of black, or that of white, but rather varying shades somewhere in between the two extremes. He mused that it really shouldn’t be called a color at all, being completely bland and void of any vitality. It was like staring at a two dimensional old photograph of unfamiliar scenery that sparks no emotional connection, yet plays a great deal on the most negative feelings of depression that a soul can experience. There was no style or substance to the color. It simply was.

It was cold; the chill in the air allowing the exhalation of breath to crystallize into a fog as it permeated the drops of water that fell with a gentle, steady rhythm all around. Grey and cold; why did the two always seem to come as a pair? Remy took no notice of the rain falling down, nor any acknowledgement of the people standing around him. He was focused on the little rectangular plot of fresh, soggy dirt, and the stone statue of a little angel girl with an upturned face at its head; the drizzle of drops running like tears from the corner of the marble eyes, as they stared unseeing into the heavens above.

The sky was as granular as the stone, one mimicking the other. They were both cold and grey, just like everything else – the thought running over and over in his head. It was weird to him where the mind wanders, when faced with overwhelming despair and tragedy.

Completely numb didn’t begin to describe his body; his mind still running around in meaningless circles. It felt like he had been in a state of limbo for days, unable to handle even the smallest of details without zoning completely out of the picture. He would have to thank the Professor later for his kind generosity in donating the tombstone. Despite the solid dull color, it was quite beautiful. Krystal would have loved it, he decided. She always seemed to find beauty in anything she came across. So unlike himself; jaded most of the time. Ruby eyes wandered to the engraved words he knew by heart, the words engraved on all of the headstones the Professor had given to the clan’s graves.

*In our eyes you'll always shine  
*A star that fell too soon

It was the last line of a poem dedicated to fallen heroes. He remembered the one who had written it, one of the older women in the clan. Idly his mind wandered to that moment. Her adopted name had been Sable Rose, a beautiful non-mutant member of the Morlock family that had fallen in love with them. The choice to live her life among them was an easy one that Remy understood, the powerful need of a lonely spirit to grasp the familial welcoming comforts of the clan. They were the true heroes, bravely living their lives as best they could despite all that so-called civilization threw at them, taking in the strays that no one else wanted.

But in the end, the only focus that remained foremost in his mind was the cold and the color grey.

The group was silent as Kurt chanted on, prayers and rites given over unknown souls, regardless of what their personal beliefs had been. The Professor took the opportunity to study his followers from under the edge of the umbrella he held over his head. Most of the team had their heads down, whether in silent prayer or to hide their grief over the senseless death of strangers was unclear. Glancing at the man known as Wolverine, Xavier noted that the older mutant had his face slightly raised, eyes closed as he let the water cascade over his features, hiding his tears. Xavier suspected he knew why.

_/Men don’t cry/_

He remembered the comment the feral had made so long ago, when the man had first arrived at the mansion, determined to hold an ironclad control over his emotions. It was a weakness, the feral thought at the time, having been conditioned to believe such. The Professor smiled sadly at the man. It was amazing how far the older mutant had come, how hard he worked to overcome that conditioning. The strength in that alone spoke volumes and the telepath could only admire the feral for his courage.

Shifting his gaze slightly, he studied the team leader. So much like the son he never had the chance to raise; yet different in so many ways. But Xavier was proud of the man Scott Summers had become. Together with his prized student, Jean, the couple had managed to find normalcy in a crazy world; marrying and starting a family amidst the prejudice and strife. He knew that Jean was worrying herself with guilt at not being allowed to attend the service. Hank had insisted, though. She was still on bed rest from her overload with Cerebro. And, being caught in a never ending downpour for an extended period of time may lead to a cold, something the very pregnant mutant could not afford at this stage.

At the thought of the downpour, Xavier turned his look towards his weather warrior. She was so proud, so strong. But this was all too much for her. Despite her best efforts, she could not control the deep sadness that invaded her very soul like a leech, draining away her control until the steady downpour was beyond her capacity to hold back. They were all feeling it; the darkness, despair, and the overwhelming grief. Shifting his gaze back to the newest member standing at the head of the grave, Xavier finally knew what Remy’s third power was.

It had eluded him, on the very tip of his awareness, but he was never sure until this very moment. The waves of emotions rolled off of him like a tidal wave, even as his mask was firmly in place. The boy was an empath. The head slightly bowed allowed the rain soaked strands of auburn hair, turned dark in wetness, to trail over his face, hiding his features from everyone. But, the Professor didn’t need to see his face to know what the other mutant was feeling. His own impressive shielding could not even hold it back, and Xavier wondered yet again just how powerful an Omega class mutant the Cajun was. Perhaps it would be something that they could explore together now that he knew. That is, if the boy would let him in. Closing his eyes to the sight, and turning his head back towards Kurt, Xavier sighed and said his own prayers over his fellow man.

As the last words were spoken and Kurt clutched his good book to his chest, most of the team cast concerned glances at the Cajun as they turned to make their way back to the mansion. The numbers dwindled, until there remained only two at the gravesite. Logan stood beside Remy, a quiet pillar of strength to the boy as he struggled to cope.

After a few moments, Logan’s hand slowly reached out and intertwined with Remy’s. It was contact that he needed to bring him back, as lost and alone as he felt. He slowly turned and they simply stared at each other.

Emerald green irises saddened as Rogue turned her gaze to the two men still standing by the grave. As she watched them stare at each other, she could not help the flare of jealousy. One man she could touch, but could never have; the other she wanted to have, but could never touch. Logan’s hand lifted and caressed the Cajun’s cheek, Remy closing his eyes in response. And as the scene played out, her gut twisted in loneliness and despair even as a small smile played on her lips, her heart wishing them true happiness as she turned away to leave and give them the privacy they deserved. Both had come to mean a great deal to her and she would not begrudge them the feelings they shared for one another, no matter how much it hurt.

******

It wasn’t about sex.

It was about comfort.

The need to feel alive, after being surrounded by so much death.

The need to feel another soul’s touch.

Logan laid him down, moving in slow motion as he peeled soaked clothing from the cold skin it cloaked. Gentle kisses worked their way over the chilled body, bringing warmth everywhere lips touched reverently.

Remy closed his eyes and sighed shakily. His hands came up to softly skim through Logan’s hair, as the older man stoked a dying fire back to life. Logan called on all his experience as he entered the willing body below, and rocked with a tender rhythm, his tongue mimicking the motions in the younger mutant’s mouth.

Remy could feel all of the feral, the physical and the emotional. The older man laid it all before him, wrapped it around him like a blanket, a lifeline to his drifting soul. And he grabbed onto that saving tether with all his strength, concentrating on the feral as he made sweet, slow love to him, helping drive away the darkness.

“Remy” Logan whispered. “I’m here for you.” His breath ghosted over the younger man’s lips, and the tears that would not fall at Krystal’s grave began to slip out, trailing down Remy’s face to drop off into nothing. “I’m here.” He whispered again.

They moved as one entity, no clear definition where one ended and the other began. And emotions climaxed, two bodies gasping in pleasure, before slowly ebbing away. One large, masculine hand came up to softly comb back auburn strands of hair and wipe away straggling tears, the strength in the man belied by the gentle gesture. No words were needed as everything was said through their eyes, the windows to their souls. And they drifted off into dreamless sleep, clinging to each other...saving each other.

*****

Remy’s eyes fluttered open. He continued to breathe slow and easy so his lover would not stir from his deep slumber. The dawn was still far away and the night closed around him like a blanket. But, he could not return to sleep. His mind raced with a multitude of thoughts and he found he could no longer lay idle in bed. Slowly, like the master thief he was, he eased from the bed and made a quiet trek from the room, down the hall and stairs to the workout room below. He recalled the room was soundproof and the door closed behind him as he stepped over to the stereo system. There was already a music disc in the unit and he found that it didn’t really matter what was playing. As long as it was some kind of background noise to fill the silence, it would be fine. For the past several days, Remy had vacillated between listless indifference and numb resignation. And now, he needed to feel the burn of muscles moving and stretching as he contorted through various exercises.

A press of the play button caused the speakers to fill with a soulful, melancholic piano with just the right slow tempo to match his mood. He started his routine with a handstand; his body straight and toes pointed towards the ceiling. Intent on holding that form for a moment, he nearly lost his balance to fall on his face when he heard the first lyrics of the song.

~ Oh no, I see  
A spider web is tangled up with me~

Remy recovered quickly, smoothly maneuvering such that the near collapse turned into a somersault, allowing him to return to a standing position. How ironic, he mused, that the first words of a song he had never heard before would so eloquently describe his current predicament. A quick step led to a series of flips and tumbles, as if he were avoiding incoming strikes. His body moved on automatic, initiating the steps and moves as naturally as breathing. All the while, his mind wandered. Once, when he was a kid, he remembered seeing a spider web up close. In the open doorway of an abandoned, dilapidated building, he sat and stared out into the rain soaked night. With the rain pouring down in sheets, and the wind blowing so strong, there would be no hope of picking a pocket. The streets were empty, for the most part, and too dangerous when there was no prospect of earning a little money. So, he sat and listened to the rain as it struck the concrete. But, his eyes were riveted on a large, intricate web that stretched from one upper corner of the doorway to the other. A large cockroach had flown into the middle of the thread, and was struggling futilely against the sticky matter. The spider was simply waiting for its prey to cease moving, before it would cocoon it and feed. He remembered being fascinated at the whole process, and watched it for hours on end as a way to ignore the gnawing hunger in his own belly.

~And I never meant to cause you trouble  
And I never meant to do you wrong~

A quick spin kick set him off into a series of fluid back flips and smooth cartwheels as his mind continued to muse, the lyrics of the song filtering through his thoughts. In a way, his own life was like that of the bugs that were caught in the webbing. He was trapped, unable to see a way out, waiting for his particular nemesis to strike. The worst part was the knowledge that he would destroy descent people that had become his friends, his family...his lover. Had, in fact, already done so with the death of the Morlocks. Remy lost his footing and fell to one knee at the thought of those they had buried earlier. His breath was harsh in his chest, proof that he was overworking himself to fatigue, but he didn’t care.

Pushing himself up, he started on a series of slow, methodical moves. Though he couldn’t remember all of the steps, he did recall the name of the form - Tai chi. The first time he had seen it, he had been searching the alleys behind some restaurants for any tossed food. It was very early in the morning, just past dawn. He had found that the earlier he could raid the dumpsters, the better his chances of finding some uneaten food that had not yet been soiled by the contents of the trash under it, or destroyed by trash poured on top. It was a fine line, finding just the right time to hit the restaurants by the waterfront that served early morning breakfasts. On this particular morning, he had scored a mostly whole biscuit and an untouched sausage patty among the refuse, and decided to sit on the edge of the docks to watch the water. As he chewed his sandwich in utter bliss, he noticed an older oriental couple further down the pathway. They were performing moves in sync, and it looked to Remy as if they were dancing a slow, intricate dance of some sort. He continued to watch them for a while, until the streets started to fill with more people starting the day, then he scampered back to the relative safety of the shadows. But, each morning that he came to scrounge for breakfast, he saw the old couple and watched them perform their dance. They seemed at peace and content, and Remy decided he wanted to give it a try. If there was one thing that he hoped for at such a young age, it was to find a little happiness. He began to mimic their moves from a distance, keeping to their backs as much as possible lest they see him.

This routine continued for almost a week, until one day when the couple ended the form and the older man turned to look directly at Le Diable Blanc. Remy flinched, startled at being caught, but the older man didn’t seem bothered by the red-eyed child that had been watching them.   
  
“It is called Tai chi, little one.” He said, a small smile playing on his face at the little ragamuffin a few yards away. “And if you join us over here, we will teach you the proper way to perform the steps.” He held out one hand towards Remy, making an innocent offer. But Remy had been living on the streets too long by that time, and didn’t trust the words. Grownups, he had learned, always wanted something from him – usually something unpleasant. He turned and ran, ignoring their pleas to come back, and never returned to watch them. Over the years, without anyone to teach him differently, Remy had developed his own style of the art.

~ Oh no, I see  
The spider web and it's me in the middle  
So I twist and turn  
But here am I in my little bubble~

He ended his unique version of katas, and began another violent series of moves, as the piano continued to play. Remy recalled that his father had called the moves a form of gymnastic martial arts. But, for the Cajun, it was something that seemed to be a part of the very cells in his body. A back-flip kick with both feet preceded a cartwheel kick into an imaginary target's face. A hand-stand allowed him to grab an imaginary target between the legs, followed by a slam flip that would put said target beneath him in a landing. It ended with a somersault strike that had him flipping into a somersault that would land on a target's chest, if he were fighting. Instead, he landed on the floor, on one knee, head bent and eyes closed as he panted for air. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, as he listened to the lyrics of the song; his heart in his throat as the words rang true.

~ They spun a web for me  
They spun a web for me  
They spun .......~

The music abruptly ended with a click. Remy’s eyes flew open and he whirled around to stare at the person on the far side of the room.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Xavier softly asked, one hand still touching the stereo while the other rested in his lap.

“Leavin’ tonight. Don’t t’ink I’ll be comin’ back.” Remy took a deep breath and stood from his crouched position. He nearly choked on his next words. “Will...will you take care of Logan for me?”

Xavier eyed him speculatively for a few moments and decided to try one more time to reach out to the boy. “We can help you, if you’ll just trust us.” He projected all the calm sincerity of a nurturing mother to a newborn babe.

The Cajun felt the emotions coming from the older man, somehow knew that they were intentional, and it was his undoing. He didn’t want to fight anymore; was tired of the subterfuge. Briefly closing his eyes, he opened them with renewed determination.

“Professeur, please help me.” He whispered. But, the words were loud enough for the telepath to hear.

Xavier rolled towards the boy, until he could almost touch him. “Then tell me, whose spider web are you caught in?”

End ch 29


	30. Chapter 30

The agonizing howl that echoed through the labyrinth of Sinister’s dwelling left no room to doubt that whoever was unlucky enough to be faced with the scientist’s attention was in a great deal of pain. Creed lay on his assigned bunk, one massive arm behind his head while the other rested across his belly, and listened to the continuous moaning coming from the lab down the hall. He couldn’t help but frown in agitation, knowing exactly who was on the receiving end of such torture. Victor never liked seeing the Cajun at the tender mercy of Essex. Part of him railed at having developed a soft spot for the boy; calling it a weakness that could easily be exploited if the wrong people ever discovered the fact. While another part of him decided that it was merely a possessive part of his personality – no one but him was allowed to do damage to his toy. At no point did he want to examine his urge to rush into the lab and tear Sinister apart for the bloodcurdling screams that the evil bastard forced from LeBeau. Instead, Creed clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, doing his resolute best to ignore all the sounds around him. There would be a chance later to take his frustration out on one of Sinister’s clones; preferably the clone currently helping the scientist to rip apart Remy’s mind. With that final thought in mind, he turned his bulk towards the wall facing in the opposite direction from the main lab where the boy was housed and proceeded to attempt sleep.

Remy’s head fell forward as his voice finally gave out. He was being given a moment of respite from the never-ending torture. The harsh breath moving rapidly in and out of his mouth trembled and wheezed as he gasped for air. Sweat-matted hair clung to his forehead and neck, but Remy was beyond feeling. It seemed such a simple plan that he and Xavier had concocted. All he had to do was bring the data that Sinister required, though slightly falsified so that it wouldn’t be of true use to his Master. And then, Remy would find the information he needed for the Professor to help him break away from the scientist. He hadn’t counted on Creed being in the complex. He hadn’t counted on Sinister using the feral to detect the lie. For all his practice at obfuscating with the big blond mutant, Remy had been unable to control his body’s reaction.

Through blurred vision, he struggled to raise his eyes enough to look at the abomination that stood too close to him. It was a grotesque thing, with overlarge eyes that contained no pupils. The lids, when they blinked, slid together in the middle from both sides of the eyes. Was the creature part reptile? There were two small slits in the center of its face that were presumably nostrils, and the mouth stretched long and thin towards both ears as if someone had sliced the sides open in a parody of a smile. The creature wore no clothes, and from what Remy could tell it had no distinguishable genitalia. But, the worst part was the absolute lack of any emotions coming from it, as if it were some sort of robot made flesh. Remy felt disgust looking at the creature, and couldn’t help but wonder just what his master was thinking.

A chuckle sounded from the man in question as Essex stood behind a monitor a few feet away. “Why, I do believe I’m insulted, LeBeau.” Remy didn’t have the energy to lift his head; his throat too dry and raw to make any kind of retort. Essex stepped from behind the workstation and glided up to his prisoner. The Cajun hung from a ceiling by both arms, his hands encased in a special alloy that would not easily be exploded. His shirt and shoes had been removed, leaving the boy wearing only the tight, form-fitting spandex pants that normally allowed freedom and flexibility to stretch or contort into any position. The tips of his toes barely touched the floor beneath, causing a strain to his arms and shoulders as they supported his entire weight.

Essex took a moment to admire the boy, then moved two fingers to the lowered chin to raise it so that he could look into those beautiful red eyes that so resembled his own. “Allow me to introduce my newest creation. This is Subject #5248.” A quick glance and sneer at the mutant to his left before turning back to Remy, Essex continued. “Admittedly, it is not a pretty thing, but that can be remedied with further experimentation. It has taken me many years to isolate the possible genes that would allow for this particular mutant gift. And many hundreds of failures, after that, before the right sequences fell in place.”

Essex released Remy’s chin and turned his attention to Subject #5248. “This creature’s special gift is to completely negate another mutant’s natural barriers. By doing so, a telepath...any telepath, actually...can then freely move through the affected mutant’s thoughts and memories with no hindrance whatsoever. It’s like being given keys to the kingdom’s treasury, if you will. I would love to use it on Charles Xavier.” Sinister shifted his focus back to the hanging Cajun and sighed. “Unfortunately, it won’t be alive long enough to be of any benefit beyond what I can gleam from my treacherous employee.” He waved a hand in Remy’s direction airily. “Still, I am making progress, as this one has lived longer than any of the others thus far.” Glancing at the clock on his wall, he frowned. “Two hours and fourteen minutes. Yes, that is an improvement. But, I can see it is beginning to deteriorate. Therefore, I will skip any further pleasantries and return to the job at hand.”

Sinister smiled at the fear he could see in the boy’s eyes before moving to stand behind the Cajun. “Your face is so exquisite when it shows me the pain of your resistance.” Sinister purred as he ran the backs of his fingers over one high cheekbone. “Your fear is as intoxicating as a fine wine.” He whispered, warm breath blowing in the soft shell of Remy’s ear and sending chills down the Cajun’s spine. “Show me the codes that I need.”

Remy gritted his teeth, gathering all his strength to resist the mutant. He had been successful in the beginning, much to Sinister’s consternation. But, it hadn’t taken long for Subject #5248 to break through. Remy stared hard at a glass tube across the room. Within there floated some creature that vaguely resembled the thing standing next to him. Was it another version of Subject #5248? Whatever it was, it was only partially formed as it rested in its fluidic cage. Concentrating so hard to fight the intrusion of his mind, he was unaware of the sudden glow of the glass. Sinister noticed, though. The more Remy strained against the mutant ripping through his walls, the more of the glass case glowed, including the fluid and creature within it. Suddenly, it exploded with the power of a small bomb. Surprised, Essex was already in the process of pressing a button on his belt just before the explosion. He hissed as a force field surrounded the area where the case had been sitting, just in time. The glass enclosure, creature and all within the field, was totally decimated, having barely been contained.

Remy could only stare in horror at the destruction he had caused. All he did was look at the case, and it exploded. His brain wouldn’t even begin to absorb the fact that a living creature had been within the container, and that it too had exploded. The Cajun’s powers had grown beyond anything he had experienced before, if he could destroy something with a mere glance. Nathaniel stepped around the boy, looking at the former work space with an arched brow. “Well, now. That was quite interesting.” He stood there another moment before turning to grin evilly at the boy. “Quite interesting, indeed.” The calculating look on the mad scientist’s face made Remy’s gut clench in fear and his skin crawl. Essex resumed his position behind the boy. “Now, where were we?” And then there was a blinding white light of pain as the creature again tore down his barriers.

Time seemed to lose all meaning for him as Sinister continued to rape his mind. Everything was a jumbled mess of confusion and chaos, whirling around his head like a tornado, leaving just as much damage in its wake. At some point, Remy was sure he must have fallen unconscious. When he was able to again open his eyes, he still hung from the ceiling like a slab of meat, but the thing that had been ripping open his barriers was no longer in the room. He was weak from the struggle, the release of his powers and lack of any nourishment; unsure how long he had already been at Sinister’s tender mercies.

Essex had just finished inputting the last of his calculations into the terminal when he noticed the boy open his eyes. He had plans to make and needed to secure the Cajun for the next few hours. But first he needed a sample, and Remy would be weak enough not to fight his mental suggestions. “You’re awake.” Donning a pair of latex gloves, he moved towards the hanging mutant. “Don’t worry, subject #5248 has expired. We’re almost done.” He moved behind the boy and brought both hands around to lightly skim over his chest. One hand landed on a dusky nipple, gently squeezing and teasing until it rose to firmness. “The information I gathered from you has been most enlightening. I think you have earned a reward.” Essex’s other hand lowered slowly down Remy’s belly, rubbing sensuously over the skin and feeling the boy’s muscles quiver at his touch. The hand continued to travel lower, until it dipped beneath the band of Remy’s pants and brushed along his cock before gently lowering the pants to rest on the Cajun’s thighs, leaving the boy fully exposed.

The sudden burst of cool air across his naked sex caused Remy to gasp. “Non.” he whispered, unable to give voice to the protest as Essex began to invade his mind.

“Relax.” Sinister murmured softly into his ear. “I know how much you enjoy this.” The hand that had been playing with Remy’s nipples moved to join the other and tangled softly in the curly hair surrounding the other mutant’s cock. One hand curled around the Cajun’s shaft and stroked it, feeling as the organ started to fill and harden in his hand. “Think of your beloved and let yourself go.”

The tone of voice was soft, seductive, and so unlike that of his Master that Remy began to envision another pair of hands on him. In his mind, he could see Logan slowly caressing him. It was the feral’s hand that moved to gently roll Remy’s balls in his hand, scratching at the tender skin behind them as his other hand, tunneled, closed around the boy’s shaft, pulling and jerking in a mix of pleasure and pain. A thumb rubbed around the crown, spreading the liquid that was beginning to bead from the tip as warm breath blew across Remy’s neck, sending a shiver of delight and causing his skin to pimple in ecstasy. “Yes, Remy.” he heard the feral say in his mind, “Let me feel you. Let go and come for me.”

Remy didn’t want it to end; fighting the inevitable as his breath turned ragged. His hips began to move, pushing further into the body behind him even as he thrust deeper into the tight hole made by the hand enclosing and squeezing his cock. It couldn’t last. His energy was already drained, his body was exhausted from the hours of torment it had endured, and his mind was showing him the one man he so desperately longed to see.

Essex could feel the boy’s sacs drawing tight, the erratic movements of Remy’s hips that showed he was on the verge of exploding. He casually reached one hand to the table beside him to collect the specimen cup. One thumb deftly flipped the lid from the glass containing a gelatinous preservative in the bottom, and placed it over the end of Remy’s penis. “Come.” He whispered, projecting an image of the mutant known as Wolverine into the boy’s mind. It was all that was needed to push the Cajun over the edge. Remy flung his head back, coming to rest on his Master’s shoulder and cried out. Streams of ejaculate shot into the specimen jar, and Essex continued to milk the organ until every last drop was collected, releasing the now flaccid length before moving away to cover and secure his prize.

Now that the vision was gone, Remy returned to the reality of the situation and nearly choked on the sob that tried to escape his throat. Breathing sharply, all the muscles in his body, especially his arms, began to make themselves known. Remy wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang there before something became permanently damaged. He barely focused on that thought when his Master stepped back into view.

“Now then,” Sinister began, tapping a needle and squirting a small amount from the tip to release any excess air. “Let’s get you settled for the evening, while I attend to other matters.” A quick stick to inject the fluid, it didn’t take long for the drug to take effect. Within moments, the Cajun was deeply asleep. Essex pressed a button on a remote unit in his hand and watched impassively as the chain released to drop the boy to the floor. Quick, efficient exam confirmed that his employee was not too badly damaged. Essex smiled and ran one finger tenderly down the cheek of the mutant at his feet, then suddenly clenched his fist and frowned. Damn the boy’s empathy for having even a small affect on him. It had grown in tandem with Remy’s other powers. That particular nuisance of a power would need to be removed; if not by surgery, then through genetic manipulation. He stood and strode out of the lab, leaving the Cajun on the floor. It was time to collect Creed for a mission. He would deal with the boy later.

********

Logan made his way to the war room, having been summoned by the Professor telepathically. It was obvious to most of the residents that Logan was in a foul mood; each day that Remy remained missing sending him spiraling further and further into depression. The Professor’s refusal to share what he knew, along with the demand that Logan was not to search for the boy, was wearing thin on the feral. He entered the room and paused, realizing he must have been the last to arrive at the apparently impromptu meeting. At the far end of the conference table sat the Professor, with Jean and Scott sitting on either side of him and looking expectantly at the door. Hank was closer to Logan, and cleared his throat to break the feral from his momentary stupor. At the sound from the good doctor, Logan strode to a chair to the blue furred man’s left and scowled down at the table, waiting for whatever this was to begin.

The Professor steepled his fingers against his lips, then clasped his hands together and lowered them to the table before catching everyone’s eyes. “Thank you all for coming. I apologize for taking you away from your classes and have asked Ororo and Betsy to fill in, as it is not yet necessary for everyone to know what I am about to tell you about Gambit.”

Scott fidgeted in his chair, anxious to hear what his adopted father had to say about the Cajun, while Logan hoped the man was going to tell him where Remy went, doing his best to overcome the urge to growl his impatience at Xavier.

The Professor took a breath and continued. “As you may be aware, there was more to Gambit’s presence here than he originally told us. In light of this new information, a plan has been formulated to...” But before Xavier could continue, a large black swirling mass appeared just behind his chair. Sounds like thunder filled the room and wind stirred the air, sending several papers that the Professor had brought flying about like so much debris. It tunneled and grew like some kind of black hole, a vortex of barely restrained energy that was palpable to all present. All of them had turned at the initial breach, shocked motionless at the unexpected sight. And before their brains could register anything, three small fast moving projectiles emerged, aimed at the occupants closest to the yawning mouth. The first hit the Professor in his neck, just above and slightly to the right of his Adam’s apple. A second struck Jean in the shoulder, while the third slammed into the team leader’s thigh just as he managed to stand.

“NEEDLES!” Logan roared, as his brain finally moved past the shock. “GET ‘EM OUT OF YA!” But he was too late. He watched in horror as Scott, mid-turn towards Logan to catch the hastily yelled words, fell forward and hit the edge of the conference table, before landing squarely on the floor with blood beginning to pool out of a cut in his temple from the impact. Jean’s maternal instincts kicked in enough to give her the presence of mind to drape her failing body over the edge of the table, keeping her in her chair as opposed to endangering her unborn children by potentially falling out of it. Xavier slumped over the side of his own chair and all three were out for the count. Logan felt like he and Hank were glued to the floor, as they watched their team mates fall into unconsciousness.

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the swirling mass. It looked like some kind of demon with diamond-like red glowing eyes set firmly in a hardened pale face that contained a smug smile displaying razor sharp canines. It was obviously male, a strong contoured body outlined by a skin tight black body suit made of an unfamiliar material that seemed to have a life of its own and moved sensually with every muscle in the man’s body. Behind the demon, large tendrils billowed out, flowing ominously in the wind created by the vortex. Logan let out a roar and charged. Hank managed to bark an order, before he too was moving towards the enemy. “COMPUTER RECORD!”

But the demon was faster. He raised both arms and two powerful beams of energy blasted from unseen openings in the cuffs of his sleeves, aiming unerringly and striking both doctor and feral mid-chest, sending them flying across the room to the farthest corners to crash into each other and the walls. Hank hit first, the impact collapsing the wall around him as Logan slammed in on top of him. They were both incapacitated for the moment. A second figure appeared behind Sinister, towering over the mad doctor but submitting to the shorter mutant’s power nonetheless.

Essex turned his gaze on his prizes as he ordered Creed. “Collect Xavier and the boy. I will handle Mrs. Summers myself.” With that, Sabretooth strode over and hauled Cyclops from the floor, flinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. After, he wrapped his free arm around the Professor’s waist and pulled him from his chair, dragging him along the side of his body while Xavier’s toes grazed along the floor. Within moments, he entered the vortex, sparing only a cursory glance towards the opposite side of the room where a familiar smell drew his attention. His eyes narrowed, trying to see which of the two downed X-men had played with his toy, but merely growled annoyance as he turned back to the task at hand and disappeared into the darkness. Essex, meanwhile, gently lifted the pregnant female into his arms, gazing almost lovingly at her slack face as he too turned towards the portal. Logan’s eyes fluttered open and he was immediately alert, jumping off of his big blue team mate and spotting the back of his enemy across the room. But it was the unconscious red-head in the bastard’s arms that sent his heart racing and made all of the air in his lungs turn to ice.

“NOOOOOO!!” he screamed, pumping his powerful legs in order to reach the one that dared to touch Jean. It seemed as if he was moving in slow motion as the other mutant disappeared into the tunnel, and he watched as the edges of the vortex began to shrink in on itself. With one last Herculean effort, he lunged at the spot, both sets of claws extended, hoping to make the almost miniscule hole before it completely disappeared. But it was too late, as nothing but air greeted him where the portal had been and he landed with a thud onto the floor. Hank had just come to and was struggling to pull himself from the hole he had created in the wall, when he saw the shorter feral raise to his knees and sit back on his hunches. Blood dripped from Logan’s knuckles as he re-sheathed his claws and rested his hands on his thighs, choking back a sob. His head fell back and his eyes closed as he loosed the anger, frustration and overall helplessness he felt in one mighty roar. “JEEEEAAAANNNNNNNNN”

End ch 30


	31. Chapter 31

There was a steady drip that echoed around the underground lab, as if water droplets were falling from stalactites into a shallow pool deep within a cave. Scott roused slowly to the sound, unable to pinpoint the exact cause of the noise. As consciousness grew, so did all his body’s aches and pains. It took a minute to categorize all his injuries and recall how he received them; a head wound seemed to be the biggest and most worrisome of all the aches. It was possible he had a concussion; at least the fuzzy thoughts in his brain seemed to point to such. He groaned as he pushed himself off the floor, only to sway fiercely and drop back to his knees with his head hanging low and one hand resting on his thighs as the other came up to probe the wound at his temple. In that moment, he realized that he no longer wore his protective visor.

“Scott?” Xavier queried from where he sat against the wall.

“My...” Scott rubbed his eyes, unable to grasp the loss of the one piece of technology that gave him control over his powers.

“Yes, I know.” Xavier sympathized. “But, you don’t have to worry. We appear to be within a dampening field that has blocked our powers.” The older man’s brow drew together in concern. He couldn’t get to Scott to assess the damage. “Are you ok?”

Breathing sharply through his nose to control the nausea, Scott slowly raised his head to look at his mentor. “I’ve been better. What happened?” It was then that he gingerly turned his head to take in their surroundings. Both he and the Professor were in some kind of cell, the walls of which appeared to be energy. Beyond the barrier, there appeared to be a lab with all sorts of equipment lining walls, or adorning shelves. It was cluttered, yet organized simultaneously. “What is this place?”

Xavier was momentarily mesmerized, at the glimpse of the beautiful hazel eyes he had never known Scott had, before he answered. “I had planned to tell you all just before we were attacked. It appears things did not go as planned.” The older man’s gaze shifted in another direction.

Scott turned to look at the telepath, wincing slightly at the pain in his head. But, Xavier had his eyes fixed on something behind Scott. When the team leader managed to shift his body to see what was there, he gasped at the mutant hanging in chains from the ceiling. “Gambit!”

Gambit swung tortured eyes to blink at him, before turning to stare at whatever had captured his attention. When Cyclops followed the Cajun’s line of sight and saw his wife lying on an operating table, he felt his heart clench painfully. “JEAN!” He yelled and jumped to his feet, only to cry out at the overwhelming hurt radiating from his skull.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk” A disembodied voice scolded, before a demon emerged from the shadows. “You really must not overdo it, young Summers.”

Scott stifled a whimper that threatened to escape his throat and turned an angry glare in the direction of their captor. “Who the hell are you?”

Sinister stepped up to the force field and peered inside. “My name is Nathaniel Essex. I am a doctor by profession, and a scientist by choice. Some call me Sinister.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment. “Though I really don’t understand why.” Essex took another moment, then shrugged as if it mattered not.

“Why have you taken us prisoner? Why are you keeping us here, Dr. Essex?” Xavier demanded.

“All in good time, my dear professor. All in good time.” Essex looked critically at the force field, before nodding as if satisfied. “As I’m sure you are already aware, this field is an inhibitor that keeps your powers curtailed for the moment.” He smiled evilly at Xavier. “Can’t have you mentally interfering with my procedures, now can I.”

He lost some of his smile when Scott suddenly rushed the electrical wall, stopping just shy of touching it. “Release us now!”

The move was meant to intimidate, and for a moment, Essex thought he might have flinched at the unexpected action. Composing himself, he stared down his nose at the other mutant that was almost the same height. “No.” he said succinctly.

There was a need to dispel some of Scott’s anger, before it got out of hand and possibly caused them both harm. Xavier called out softly to his younger charge. “Scott, help me to the cot, please.” He had been sitting on the floor since waking in this place, and the cold had seeped into his bones, chilling him. Another moment or two of tension between the men before Scott finally relented and moved to Xavier’s side. He was still dizzy and weak from his own ordeal, so it was an exercise in frustration and teamwork to maneuver the handicapped professor to the end of one of the makeshift beds that had been setup within their prison.

Essex moved away from the cell and floated by the table on which Jean lay, pausing for a moment to assess her physical condition. Amused red eyes turned towards the cell when Sinister heard the mighty Cyclops rush the front of the cell and growl in warning. “She is very lovely, as fine a specimen as you. I imagine your children will be simply stunning.”

“Get the hell away from her, you bastard.” Scott snarled, briefly touching the energy wall with his hand, but jerking back and hissing in pain at the contact.

The scientist frowned at the boy. “I wouldn’t do that too often, if I were you. It might damage you, and that would not make me very happy.” He turned to completely face the cell, standing at his full height while placing one menacing hand on Jean’s swollen belly as he warned. “And you do not want to make me unhappy.”

It didn’t take long for the implication to register, and Scott subsided. Turning, he made his way over to stand next to the professor. Xavier’s presence helped him to regain his composure, and he needed to remain calm if he hoped to find a way out of this prison for all of them. Seeing that Cyclops had settled, Essex shifted his attention to his servant, staring appreciatively at the Cajun where he hung in abject misery. “Well, Remy, I see that your mission was successful.”

Scott hissed. “What the hell are you talking about?” He turned cold, hard eyes toward Gambit, who in turned glared back at the scientist. Gambit refused to say anything; neither confirming nor denying what his master said.

“Oh come now, Summers. I know you have more intelligence than this.” Essex glided smoothly over to his servant, amusement in his tone as he watched the Cajun’s defiance. “But, of course, this boy works for me. How else do you think I was able to obtain the necessary information to infiltrate your security and whisk away three of the most powerful mutants in the world?” The smirk that appeared on that lecherous mouth was pure smugness as he regarded the boy’s reactions. What he did not expect were the soft words from the older telepath.

“I know what you are trying to do, Dr. Essex. But, it won’t work. Remy has already told us the truth.” Xavier met both Scott’s confused gaze, as well as Sinister’s incredulous one with a confidence that clearly indicated the truth and belief of his words. It took a moment for the doctor to wrap his brilliant mind around that fact. The fact that his pet had actually defied him so much was an unpleasant variable in the dynamics of their relationship. The scientist was clearly unhappy at the prospect of the boy seeking a way to escape him, though Essex couldn’t convince himself to actually be surprised by this turn of events. Still, it didn’t matter, and worked to his favor, as he now had the three X-men in his possession, in addition to the return of his wayward slave. And soon, he would have the ultimate prize in the form of the two infant children he would take from the girl’s womb.

“I see that LeBeau has been busy in his time with the X-men.” Gambit couldn’t help but flinch at the evil glint in his master’s eye. He couldn’t look at the Professor or Scott, and stared helplessly straight ahead in a futile attempt to ignore the scientist. “But tell me, Xavier, how much did the boy actually tell you? Have you worked out all the pieces of the puzzle known as Gambit, I wonder?” Essex watched his captives for a moment, before he smiled and continued confidently. “No. You are no closer to the truth, than you are to your illusory dreams of mutant equality. If you were, you most definitely would have treated the boy differently.”

Essex regarded the Cajun. “Perhaps it is time I tell you what is so special about this mutant.” He moved closer to the boy as he began to speak. “As a doctor, I have the ability to access and decipher all of the medical databanks that exist. You can imagine my glee at finding readily available mutant blood samples from blood banks around the world; such an easily accessible supply.” Essex sneered at the two in their energy cage. “All of you X-men are so conveniently noble when it comes to donating blood when a crisis arises.”

One pale white hand moved tenderly, almost reverently, over the swells and valleys of the Cajun’s chest; sharp nails scraping thin red lines at various points as he purposely drew his captives’ attention to the prize hanging before him. “It was a testament to my brilliance that I achieved my ultimate goal. By combining the DNA strands of two of the world’s greatest telepaths – one, I might add, having the abilities of telekinesis as well...” he briefly glanced in Jean’s direction before turning his burning red eyes back to the creation before him. “...adding in the elements of an energy wielder as powerful as the mighty Cyclops, and my own glorious genes, I have produced the rarest creature of all.” He continued to stare lovingly at the boy. Remy could only squeeze his eyes together tightly and turn his face into his arm, unable to avoid his master’s touch from his confined position.

“An empath.” Xavier stated, as he watched the doctor’s fingers trail over the boy’s ribs.

Essex turned toward Xavier and blinked once before throwing his head back to emit a guttural laugh full of amusement. Sharp, pointed teeth gleamed in the overhead lights of the lab as his hearty guffaws filled the room, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine as his lips pressed together in a thin line. It was obvious the scientist was insane, and mocking them. Finally, the laughter ceased and Sinister turned his jagged teeth smile towards the telepath. “Well, there is that, too. The world of an empath is a vicious cycle where emotion fuels even greater emotion, the flames fanning higher exponentially until the weight of it all crushes the source of that fuel, killing the one yielding the talent. Yes, an empath is quite rare.” His smile turned cruel, before he made his next statement. “And of no use to anyone. They are weak, dying or turning insane before they reach puberty. Most of them commit suicide.” He turned back to the Cajun and grabbed the auburn hair in one fist, yanking the boy’s head so that he once again faced his master. “As intriguing as that is, I have no interest in such a mutant power. It serves nothing in my purpose and deserves to be culled from the mutant populace. No, if that was Remy’s only gift, I would not have wasted my time helping him block it. Instead, I would have observed his demise, much as I observe the reactions of one of my test animals to a new chemical.”

Running a cold tongue along the side of Remy’s face, Sinister smirked at the disgust in his pet’s eyes. He didn’t bother to give any attention to the other three captives, though his words were directed at the Professor. “Ah, Xavier. How poignant that you would fail to see the true potential of this boy. He is more powerful than all of your children combined.”

“And what makes him so rare and powerful, Essex?” Scott hissed, ready for the man to get to the point he obviously wanted to make.

Sinister turned his gaze on the energy wielder standing next to the Professor, noting the possessive hand Scott held on the older man’s shoulder. Eerie red eyes glowed brilliantly for a moment, as Essex dropped all pretense of good nature and bared his teeth at them. “It’s quite simple, young Summers. At full power, Remy can destroy the world with a thought.” With that, he released his hold on the Cajun, sending the boy’s body swinging as he turned and left the lab.

There was nothing but silence in the wake of Essex’s departure. The three men regarded each other as their faces reflected varying degrees of emotion; one with anger and betrayal, one with regret and resignation, one with understanding and sadness. But it was the soft words from the mutant lying on the examining table that startled them all to look in her direction with concern. “All my life,” she began, “I have hated this gift that made me different. I just wanted it to be gone, so I could live normally like everyone else.” Her eyes fluttered open to stare at the ceiling, as one hand slowly rose to gently touch the collar around her neck. “And now that my powers are denied me, I have never missed something more in my life.” She turned her verdant eyes toward the Cajun, challenging him to answer her earnestly. “Did you betray us, Gambit? Did you betray my children?”

Devil red is what his eyes had always been called. The white devil was the name given to him in his youth; a name deserving of a lying thief. Those same red eyes, that always caused him grief, now begged for Jean to see the truth of his words. “In de beginning.” he rasped, throat gone dry and harsh from hours of screaming, “Mas de longer I stay wit’ you, de more I see you not what Remy been told. You bien folk.” Ruby eyes glittered with emotion. “Didn’ know mon maître was after you and de babies. Never wanted to hurt anyone, especially de bebs, chere.”

While she studied him, her head groggy from the receding effects of the drugs, she heard the Professor. “He told me his mission was to steal genetic data from our databanks, and that was all. When he told me this, our plan was to have Remy give him falsified information.”

“Then how did Sinister know the coordinates to penetrate our security. He had to have gotten that from Gambit, just as he said.” Scott fumed, angry beyond words at their current predicament and the perceived betrayal by a fellow team mate.

But again, it was Jean who spoke, turning her head to try and see her husband. The attempt was futile, as he was out of her line of sight. “Look at him, Scott. Really see him. Does Remy look like he gave up that kind of information so willingly?” She turned back to regard the bruised and battered Cajun. “You called him your master, yet you chose to try and defy him by giving him false data. And then you obviously fought him when he tried to gain the information that allowed him to break into the mansion. No one is truly a slave, whose will is free.” Sighing heavily, Jean finally closed her eyes and began to drift towards unconsciousness once again.

*********

Logan prowled back and forth across the room, while Hank fiddled with the computer system. They had played the tape many times since their team mates had been kidnapped, and were no closer to learning where they might have been taken. It was enough to make his eyes flash yellow, as his feral nature threatened to take over. “Why the hell can’t you find the location? And where the hell are the others? They should be here by now.”

Hank frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose through two massive fingers. “I told you, Logan. Storm, Bobby, and Rogue are still with the children, moving them to the secondary safe house. They should return once some of the other instructors have arrived to take over the watch, along with Betsy and Warren who are coming in from the city. As for our missing comrades, the computer was not capable of calculating the starting point of the vortex. It’s not something our systems have ever seen before, and...”

But the older man cut him off. “Then what good is the damn thing?” He stopped and proceeded to punch another hole in the wall beside the larger opening that he and the big blue doctor had created when they were blasted. “Shit!”

All the good doctor could do was sigh heavily. “That’s not really helping, my friend.” Henry completely missed the scowl that the older man cast his way, as he began muttering to himself once again. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. If I can calculate the diameter of the maw, extrapolate the amount of energy produced, hmmm...then the force needed to sustain it for the length of time that they were here. Let’s see, the equation...” The doctor was in his own little world of calculations and theories as Logan ran an impatient hand through his hair. The feral was just on the verge of quipping another sarcastic remark, when the warning systems began to shrill.

_\- Intruder alert -  
\- Intruder alert -_

“Where, goddammit!? Where?” Logan shouted at the machine, his eyes glowing with the need to kill something.

“Just a moment.” Hank called out frantically, big burly fingers flying over the keyboards. “The front lawn. It’s...oh my stars and...” But he never finished his statement as Logan took off like a bat out of hell. “LOGAN! WAIT!” Hank bounded after his teammate, anxious to reach him before he confronted the mutant that the computer had identified.

Logan barreled through the front door, onto the lawn, and froze. Hovering not more than thirty yards away from him was one of the few mutants in the world that actually terrified him; one of the few in the world who could kill him in moments with simply a wave of his hand. “Magneto” he growled low in his throat, “This day just keeps gettin’ better n’ better.” He extended both claws as he yelled “What the hell d’ya want, ya mangy bastard?”

Erik simply arched a brow at the feral. “Well, if it isn’t Xavier’s pet pit bull. I hoped you might be dead after our last encounter.” With those taunting words, Logan launched himself at the man, desperate to reach him before Magneto could take control of the metal in his bones. But, he wasn’t quick enough, and Magneto caught him in an invisible grip half-way in the air. Erik squeezed one hand into a fist and grit his teeth. “I shall finish what I started at our last battle.”

“NOOOOO!!!!” Hank cried as he, too, came charging out of the house and straight at the master of magnetism. But Lensherr reached his free hand towards the metal railings of the porch and yanked them towards the doctor, enclosing them around the big blue mutant, like a straight jacket, to effectively stop the man in his tracks. Logan gurgled in agony as he felt the metal beginning to seep from his body. A cold sweat covered his body from the overwhelming fear and anger of dying such a painful, useless death; one where he didn’t get to, at least, exert just as much damage on the enemy before the end. He couldn’t die! Not now, not when they still needed him; when Remy still needed him. It wasn’t fair that he would be leaving this plane of existence just when he had found his soul mate.

Before Lensherr could gloat at his captive, a wave of needle-like ice particles flew at him from the side, slicing into any exposed skin as well as some of his clothing. It diverted his attention from pulling the metal from the feral’s body, as he sent more power into the bubble shield surrounding him in an attempt to deflect the tiny shards. Once the barrage ended, Magneto glared at the new player on the field, momentarily awed at the pristine, limpid ice sculpture the other mutant’s body presented.

“You dare challenge me, little boy?” Magneto smirked at Bobby, irritation and amusement warring in his eyes. “I could manipulate all of the iron in your blood in mere moments, killing you instantly.”

But, Bobby was not about to back down. He was an intimidating sight in his ice form as he answered. “And I can freeze all the liquid in yours just as quickly. So, tell me Magneto, do you really wanna see who the fastest draw is?” The Ice Man’s crystalline orbs flashed brilliantly in the sun as he stared down the older mutant.

For his part, Erik was fuming internally. Who did this insolent whelp think he is? Obviously, Xavier was failing to teach his children proper respect for authority. Still, Erik knew all about the boy’s capabilities. The question then became just how powerful had the boy become in his time at Xavier’s academy? Had this mere child truly learned to harness his powers to such a degree that he could freeze the very blood in a human’s body? Ironically, it was a thought that made him shiver. He had not come here to wage war with the X-men, at least not at this time. Rather, he was repaying a debt to the very mutants that Sinister so callously destroyed. He would see the scientist punished for his transgression. And if it helped his one-time friend, Xavier, in the process, then it was more the better. He released his hold on the feral, sending the mutant crashing to the ground and writhing in agony as the quick-healing body repaired itself. “I did not come here to fight with you. I merely wish to impart some information that you may find useful in regards to your search for your missing team mates.”

From his position on the ground, metal still binding him, Hank gave the man a sardonic look. “I think your case for trust would be easier made under a few concessions.” He pointedly looked at the metal wrapping his torso. A corner of Lensherr’s mouth twitched up in the shadow of a smile, before he flicked one hand towards the good doctor and effectively released him from his makeshift prison.

Logan had recovered quickly, the damage this time not nearly as vast as the last time, and lay on the ground alternately panting and growling. “Why should we believe anything you have to say?”

The master of magnetism simply shrugged. “It matters not, whether you believe me. I am here for my own interests primarily, not yours.”

“And just what are those interests?” Hank queried, as he hauled himself to a standing position and dusted off his clothes.

“To see justice done.” Came the adamant remark from the man.

“Justice?” Logan spat, head bent as one hand came up to wipe blood from the edge of his mouth. He rolled his eyes upwards to glare at the other mutant through the fringe of his lashes. “Or revenge?”

Lensherr waved a hand absently, as if to disregard such a ridiculous notion. “Semantics, Wolverine. Purely semantics. After all, justice and revenge are simply two sides of the same coin.” He leveled a stern gaze at the blue haired mutant, as he considered the doctor to be the most intelligent one of the three, and therefore the only one worth consideration in this conversation. “Essex and I may both be your enemy, but we are not the same, no matter your opinion. I strive for a world where mutants – ALL mutants – are in control, not subjected to the petty prejudices of mundane humans. As such, I can not tolerate one, such as he, who would flagrantly dispatch an entire mutant community simply because they did not live up to his idea of a perfect specimen.” Magneto sighed, suddenly tired of it all. It seemed such an endless battle sometimes, and he realized he had turned bitter in his old age. With each passing year, he seemed to lose more and more of himself to the rage within, until he didn’t recognize himself anymore. And then there was the matter of Charles. They had been friends and colleagues, once upon time. “It would be unfortunate to lose Charles to Sinister, when his final battle should be with me.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Bobby jeered, then threw up an impromptu ice shield to block the metal railing that Magneto sent flying his way.

Erik glared at the ice mutant. “You are many decades too young to disrespect me, boy.”

Bobby was about to retort, Logan altering his stance for attack as well, when Hank roared “ENOUGH!” The doctor turned his attention toward his younger team mate. “Bobby, back off.” He whipped back towards the feral and pointed his finger. “Logan, stand down.” When he was satisfied that they were complying for the moment, he shifted his interest to the final mutant in this particular game. “Alright, Magneto. We’re listening.”   
  
End ch 31  
*********


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See disclaimers and warnings in first/previous chapters
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic
> 
> For this chapter, words between < > indicate speaking over a communication device.
> 
> Additional Note: Part of this chapter was inspired by a similar episode in Xmen: The Original Animated Series, though I can’t remember the exact episode.

They surveyed the unassuming mound of dirt in the distance, wary of any monitoring devices that may be scanning the area.  It was difficult to maintain silence, but in the wake of Wolverine’s narrowed glare and Hank’s reproachful warning gaze, the two youngest of the X-men bit their lips and kept questions to themselves.  Bobby mused that it must have been harder on Rogue, given that she had been required to absorb so much of Storm’s power that there was no helping the flood of memories that she currently sifted through, even as she maintained a vigilant ready at the back of the group.  The ice mutant, himself, had been none too happy about leaving Jubilee to watch over the nearly comatose wind rider back at the mansion, not with the likes of Magneto so recently a visitor.  It was still a curiosity to him why they had readily believed the master of magnetism.  But, Hank had been adamant that the older mutant was telling the truth.  Bobby recalled that Logan was simply relieved when Magneto opted not to join them, indicating that he had already done enough by telling them the location of their team mates and that they were, by no means, comrades-in-arm.  It was the final words from the magnetic mutant that still rung in the ice man’s ears.

* _Tell Charles that we are even.  I will yield for now, but there will be a next time._ *

Bobby was brought back from his thoughts by the return of Betsy and Warren.  Angel landed quietly beside Hank.  “There appears to be no guards patrolling the surrounding areas.”

The ninja quietly emerged from the shadows.  “Nor did I see any.  There are some surveillance cameras approximately 200 yards to our ten and two.”  She snapped two pointed fingers in each direction she indicated as she squatted beside the feral.

Logan turned to look over his shoulder at Rogue.  “You with us, Stripes?”  At seeing her firm resolve and the set jaw, he nodded in satisfaction.  “Create a light fog in those two areas; not enough to cause suspicion, but enough to keep ‘em blind to us.  It needs to roll over slowly, to look more natural.”  He turned to the other members of the small team.  “The only way in seems to be the front door, which is fine by me.  The fog’s only gonna buy us a small window of time.  Once we’re through that door, there’s no tellin’ what we’re gonna be facing.”

Hank chimed in at this point.  “If Magneto’s information is to be believed, we are going into an underground situation.  The two who may be most limited...” At this, his eyes flickered first to Angel, then to Rogue, “...should initially bring up the rear.  It will be your job to watch our backs and help point out any corridors we may miss during the ensuing battle.  I’m not sure the state we will find our friends, but we need to be prepared for the worst.”

Leaning over towards her ear, Bobby whispered, “Are you sure you’re ok going into an underground enclosure?”

Rogue answered back.  “Yeah.  It seems like I got memories of being scared of closed spaces, but didn’t get the claustrophobia itself.”  She shrugged, being the first to admit that her absorption powers were a mystery, even to herself.  For a moment, her mind drifted to the weather goddess they had left unconscious back at the mansion.  Psylocke caught her eye and whispered into her mind.

/ _She’ll be fine, Rogue.  I know I’m not Jean, but I was very careful in monitoring the process._ /

Rogue nodded at her.  Eyes turning white, she concentrated on calling Storm’s powers to build a fog, like Logan ordered.  Though it took precious minutes to produce a slow front, it hadn’t taxed her and the end result was fairly natural looking.  Wolverine waited another few minutes before giving the signal.  “Move out.” He hissed.

*********

Dr. Essex entered the lab from the side door, wheeling two incubator tubes into the room with him.  He only glanced a moment at the two men in the inhibitor cage, before turning his red gaze on the pregnant telepath lying on an examination table.  She glared at him as he approached.  “Well now, shall we get started?”  

“Leave her alone!” Scott yelled, frustrated at his helplessness.

Sinister spared a droll look at the energy wielder as he answered.  “Really, Scott.  Do you honestly believe your demands mean anything to me?”  Turning back to the tray beside the table, he picked up a syringe.  “Be a good boy and settle down.  This won’t take long.”  Measuring a small amount into the tube, he turned and plunged the contents into Jean’s arm, listening to her whimper.  “Now my dear, try to relax.  This drug I have created will numb the pain.  I normally abhor the use of any anesthetics, as it can affect final readings.  But, you are very special.  I can not have you succumbing to the pain.”  He smiled evilly as he watched her eyes fill with tears.  “After all, who knows how many more times in the future I will desire to study you in my lab.”

It was impossible to block her feelings, no matter how hard Remy tried.  He was completely open to the onslaught from everyone in the room.  As the man he called master palmed a scalpel to begin the incision, Remy could feel the power building within him, growing stronger with each moment, as all of the others became more emotional.  “No” he whispered, breathing becoming labored; pain and fatigue plaguing his body.  The sweat poured down his face and neck as he continued to fight for control, watching Sinister open the woman and begin removing the first of her two babies.  He could hear Scott screaming profanities and threats, the Professor trying to calm him.  Jean was openly crying, sobbing hysterically despite being numb to the pain.  And all of the overflowing emotions slammed into and through him, gripping his heart and soul in a vice, squeezing unbearably tighter.  Everything was blurring, and he feared it would not be long before his control completely slipped.

**********

Once inside, the team was faced with several corridors.  So far, no alarms had been tripped, but Logan didn’t hold onto any hope that would last.  “Change of plans...”  He directed them to split up into teams of two;  Bobby and Hank to the turn on the left, with Angel and Psylocke moving right.  Wolverine sidled Rogue with him, feeling it the best place for her protection despite having Storm’s powers temporarily.  They had traveled their path quite some distance when Logan put his hand up to stop the girl following him.  Logan’s nostrils flared, extending all his senses in an effort to locate any enemies around him.  And suddenly, he caught a scent he had only smelled twice before...on Remy.  

“Well, well, well...what do we have here?  Are you the runt of the X-dweebs?”  Sabertooth stepped out of the shadows, teeth bared as he extended his claws and crouched in attack position.

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan snarled, as he pushed Rogue backwards out of the way.

“Your worst enemy, punk.”  Creed hissed.  “I don’t like no one poaching my property.”  Fangs bared, the big blonde mutant flexed his muscles.

Both ferals began to circle one another, analyzing each other for weaknesses.  Rogue backed deep into a corner, taking herself from the playing field as she watched the two men become a blur of action.  Claws slashed, teeth gnashed, as the sounds of grunts and bones crunching under the smack of flesh on flesh filled the corridor.  So entwined in the fight, it seemed unbelievable to determine where one man ended and the other began.  Blood blended and she stood awed as wounds, which would be fatal on any ordinary human, were instantly healed.  The fight seemed to drag on and on, with neither man gaining ground over the other.  But, fatigue began to settle over both mutants.  Swings grew less random, more calculated.  Cuts and broken flesh took longer to heal.  At last, they broke apart and stepped back into their own corners, panting hard and eyeing each other for an opening.

“I’m gonna pound your ass into submission, runt.”  Creed grinned, a set of blood stained teeth showing grotesquely through his lips.  “You ain’t really my type.  I like ‘em tall, pretty and fuckable, but I guess I could make an exception in your case.”

Logan ’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Not if I cut yer dick off, asshole.”

“Whatsa matter, short stuff?”  Creed taunted.  “Don’t like being uke?  ‘Fraid I might hurt ya?  Remy seems to take the pain pretty good.  Don’t seem to bother him too much.  ‘Course, I never really got around to asking him.”  

As Rogue gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, stunned by the large mutant’s words, Logan roared his rage and lunged for the man, catching him by surprise.  It was vicious fighting - fists and feet, teeth and claws.  The eyes of both men had turned golden as they battled, raw power and fury flowing from the two warriors.  But no matter how hard they fought, both men were evenly matched.  Logan had an edge with his adamantium blades.  Creed had the advantage of height and weight.  Rogue closed her eyes as Logan plunged his claws through Creed’s stomach, causing a spray of blood to splatter against the wall.  The big blonde mutant screamed in pain, momentarily immobilized.  It didn’t take long for his instincts to take over though, and drawing on all his strength, he swung his arm violently at Wolverine’s head.  Knocking the smaller man away from him, Creed bent over double, one arm coming up to cradle the wound as he glared at his opponent while baring his teeth.  He sounded like a wounded, cornered animal as he slammed into Logan, knocking him down again.  Punching non-stop, both his claws finally came up to grab the smaller man by the head.  Using those dark tufts of hair, Creed lifted and smashed Logan’s head into the concrete, over and over again.  Blood began to pool in large amounts where Wolverine’s skull continuously connected with the floor, as the feral’s yellow eyes began to dim with the onslaught.  Maniacal laughter flowed from the larger man as he sensed victory over his opponent.

From seemingly nowhere, a massive bolt of lightning pierced the giant blonde, sending him flying against the far-side wall.  As the residual electricity ebbed and flowed around his body, seeking a pathway to the ground, he crumpled to the ground unconscious.  A large burn mark could be seen from where the energy had entered his body.  It didn’t appear to be healing and Rogue breathed a sigh of relief as she ran over to her team mate.  

“Logan” she cradled his head in her arm as her hand gently patted his cheek.  “Logan, c’mon sugah.”  Already the wound at the back of his skull was healing, and it was only a matter of time before he would rouse.  

Groaning at the residual pain, Logan lifted one hand to his forehead as his eyes blinked open to stare at the adoring face above his.  “Hey, darlin’”.  He rasped, as he struggled for a moment to lift himself.

Rogue smiled and moved to help him stand.  “You gonna make it, old man?”  

Logan growled.  “Who ya calling old, little girl?”  He glanced over at the big blonde feral and spit.  “One mean sombitch.”  Then he snarled at his team mate, pride stung.  “I coulda taken him down, if ya hadn’t interfered.”  With that he stalked off a little unsteadily down the hall, continuing their search for their missing members.  

Rolling her eyes, Rogue started after him, muttering under her breath.  “Yeah, whatever.”  

She hurried after him, aware that he was on the trail of a scent, and it brought them both to a stop outside a heavy steel door.  Logan drew back and punched the entrance with his claws, but it didn’t do more than slightly dent it.  With a growl of frustration, he activated his communication device and called for the others.  “All teams, we found ‘em.  I can smell ‘em on the other side of a big damn door!  I need some extra power to get it open.”

The comm-unit crackled and Hank’s voice came through.  <“ _Iceman and I will be with you momentarily_.” >  But nothing was heard from the second team.  

Logan cocked a questioning brow at Rogue before calling to the other team.  “Angel, Psylocke”  When no answer came, he yelled into the box.  “Come in, gahddammit!  Where the hell are ya?”

There was a brief period of static before the ninja finally spoke, her voice seemingly distant through the small device.  <“ _We had a little company.  Angel’s finishing things up and he’ll join up with us.  I’m on my way now_.” >

Logan noticed the sheen of perspiration on Rogue’s face, and a slightly pale pallor.  “Ya alright, darlin’?”

“I think Storm’s powers are close to gone.”  Rogue looked up at him and gave a slight, yet reassuring smile.  “Don’t worry, sugah.  Got enough left to see this thing through.”

Logan nodded and started analyzing the door again for any weaknesses.  At this point, all they could do was wait for the others.

*******

Essex pulled the second baby from Jean’s uterus and cleaned the infant’s airway, much as he had done with the first child that rested quietly in a sealed incubator to the side of him.  A second incubator waited for the infant that now held his attention.  Once the baby was cleaned and wailing loudly, Essex smiled and placed the precious bundle in the chamber, sealing it tightly.  Jean continued to cry hysterically, while Scott threw a hateful glare at the mad doctor.

“There, there, my dear.  No need for histrionics.”  He crooned, as he tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks with the façade of a caring doctor.  “You have produced a boy, and a girl.  Perfect.”  He finished expertly sewing her up, even as she continued sobbing. 

“I’ll kill you, Sinister.”  Scott hissed, fury in his eyes.

Sinister ignored him.  He pressed a button and a metal coffin enveloped the mother, much like the incubator tubes containing both babies.  Remy watched all of this with glazed-over eyes, the emotions of the two traumatized infants joining in with the parents to overwhelm him.  It was only a matter of time, one final push before the dam burst free.  After what he had done in his master’s lab when being tortured by that creature, the Cajun was fearful of what would happen when his powers broke loose.  He had betrayed the X-men, but he never wanted to be the cause of their deaths.  That final push, however, came sooner than he anticipated with the pounding on the metal door, and Sinister’s next horrifying words.

Cocking his head towards the door, Sinister gave a sharp-pointed, toothy smile.  “Well, I see the cavalry has arrived.  That is our cue to leave.”  He inhaled deeply as he glanced at the two infants he planned to spirit away.  “I can hardly wait to have them on my examining table.  Oh the results my experiments on these two shall yield.”

Jean shrieked in horror at the man, her noise muffled within the metal barrier that surrounded her.  Scott roared in anguish and, in his mindless rage, stormed the energy cell, attempting to burst through it.   The energy wall held firm, zapping him soundly as he screamed in agony and fell backwards unconscious on the floor.  Xavier called out to him, and dragged his body over to the fallen boy.  

It was all too much for Remy.  Everything around him started to hum, the radiance of the objects growing.  Eyes shut tight, he could feel the flow of energy increase, even as emotions not his own cascaded through and around him.  Through gritted teeth, Remy opened his eyes and focused all that raw energy - all that hate and despair - directly at the monster that had caused him nothing but pain all of his life.  Dimly, he was aware that everything around Sinister, and the doctor himself, was beginning to glow.  

Sinister looked at his creation with something akin to surprise.   “What are you doing, LeBeau?”  He could feel his molecules rapidly vibrating, building up energy as he stared at his pet.  With a snarl, Essex fought back.  “I don’t think so, child.”  He telepathically attempted to break through Remy’s barriers, to overcome the boy’s mind and take him down for good.  Gambit didn’t even flinch as he concentrated on his target.  Pounding continued to emanate through the door, the mutants on the other side beginning to break through.  

As the power struggle between master and slave reached higher and higher levels, things around the lab began to explode.  The belt around Sinister’s waist, that contained the controls for nearly all of the machinery in the room, sparked and crackled before popping into molten pieces.  This caused the energy cell around Xavier and Scott to flicker several times, before finally shutting down and taking the dampening field with it.  From the triumphant smirk on Essex’s face, Xavier could tell that Remy was beginning to falter in the tug-of-war.  He quickly scooted himself closer to Scott, struggling to lift his student’s head and point it in the direction of the scientist.  “Scott, wake up.  We need you.”  He continued to call for the young man, aware of the fear and anxiety in his own voice, but doing his level-best to avoid gaining the doctor’s attention.  “Scott” he hissed, lightly slapping the boy’s cheek.  Then, Xavier closed his eyes and whispered “Forgive me.”  With all of his formidable power, Xavier dove into the unconscious team mate’s mind.  

/ _SCOTT, OPEN YOUR EYES NOW_ /

Like a puppet on a string, the insensible mutant’s eyelids flew up, emitting a massive beam of energy straight towards the scientist.  The surprise of the strike was enough to undo the doctor, who screeched in pain, as the beam cut through him.  The force of the laser, coupled with the doctor’s already excited molecules, tore the man asunder.  Pieces of the man’s body exploded all over the room, coating almost every surface within reach.  Xavier issued another mental command, and Scott’s eyes closed.  Gambit slumped in his bonds, his own eyes closed as the power he had exerted clearly taxed his already over-stressed body and mind.  He opened them again at Jean’s whimper.  She was staring, horrified, as several liquid pieces that had scattered from Essex’s body with the explosion, started to move towards each other.  Remy’s mind whirled.  He had forgotten the man was a shape-shifter.  But, how long would it be, before he reformed, after such a blow?

Just then, the door fell open with a thud as it hit the floor.  The sight of five of his X-men had never been more pleasing to the Professor.  “What in hell happened in here?”  Logan bellowed, confused at the scene they fell into as he wrinkled his nose in disgust of all the matter splattered around the room.  His eyes landed on his wounded lover, and he rushed over, but stopped half-way when he heard Gambit’s weakened rasp.  “Non.  Jean.  De babies.”  It was all he managed, but it was enough for Logan to understand.  It didn’t take him long to slice through the protective casing of Jean’s tube.    

Jean gasped.  “Logan, get this off me.  Quickly.”  The feral knew immediately what she wanted as he looked at the inhibitor around her neck.  Making quick work of the collar, he threw it aside.  “Lift me, so I can see the room.”  Doing as she bade, Logan gently picked her up, careful of the fresh stitches on her exposed belly.  He watched as she surveyed the room in deep concentration.  “Bobby, open those cases.  Rogue, Elizabeth, please take my babies out of them.”  Once she saw her children safely in the arms of her team mates, she closed her eyes and called upon her powers to collect as much of Sinister’s fluidic parts as possible, separating the various pieces into the three metal tubes that had previously housed her and the babies.  She couldn’t collect it all; she simply didn’t have the strength.  After several attempts at collecting what she could and depositing it in the chambers, she rested her head against Logan’s shoulder.  “Please” she whispered “seal it.”  Bobby iced down all three units in layers several feet thick, to insure it would be a long, long time before the ice casing melted.  It was just as he finished placing the last layer that they heard the rumbling.

“What was that?”  Rogue looked up and saw that the ceiling was beginning to crack.  Chips of concrete and dust were crumbling around them as the ground beneath them began to shake.  “Oh gawd!  The building’s collapsing.”  Remy groaned into his chest, feeling enormous guilt.  It must have been a switch in Sinister’s control box that had exploded on his waist. 

Hank took over, hoisting the unconscious team leader into his arms.  “Bobby, get the Professor, since Logan already has Jean.”

Ceiling tiles were actively falling around them, now, as cracks in the walls and floors formed.  The very earth was quaking as a series of distant explosions further underground rocked the complex.  A roar of destruction could be heard coming from all around them.  “We’ll never make it out of here.  The entrance is too far away.”  Bobby yelled.

It took the brilliant Beast several precious seconds before his eyes pierced the purple-haired beauty holding one of the twins.  “Betsy, you can evacuate us altogether.”  

“What?”  She squeaked.  “But...but, I’ve never shadow-walked this many people at once.”

“You can do this, my dear.  I have faith in you.”  Hank soothed; a plea in his tone.  

They stood there for a long moment staring at each other, each holding a precious life in their arms, until Logan finally brought them back to the situation.  “If yer gonna do something, ya better damn well get to it.”  He shifted his own burden out of the path of a falling tile, then directed an exasperated growl towards Psylocke.  

“Ok, OK” She ground out.  “Everyone stand by me and grab hold of the person next to you.”  It was easier said than done, with everyone carrying another’s body.  But, they managed to clutch at each other, as she took a deep breath and prepared to call on the power of the shadows to teleport them all to safety.

“WAIT” Logan barked, before turning tortured eyes back to his lover.  

Gambit was staring at them all, a look of determination mixed with sadness.  “It’s too late for me, chere.  Get dem outta here, befo’ de place falls down on toppa y'all.”  

“NO” the feral yelled.  He was not about to come all this way, only to lose his lover now.  Not when he still had to kick the boy’s ass for all the trouble he caused.  “Don’t try to be a damn martyr.  I won’t leave ya!”  He was looking for a place to unload Jean, so that he could free his lover, when Betsy spoke up.

“WARREN” She waited for the crackle of the comm. “Where are you, luv?”

<“ _On my way to your location.  I’m having to dodge giant cinder blocks_ /  _Why the hell haven’t you evacuated yet?  You do realize the building is collapsing?_ ”>

“No time to explain, pet.”  Her smooth, calm voice belied the nervous turmoil she was feeling as she held everyone’s lives in her hands.  “Can you be a dear and collect the Cajun on your way out?”

There were several bursts of static, as if the feathered mutant had snorted too closely to the microphone.  <“ _Sure thing, sweetheart.  Is there anything else you’d like me to collect, while I’m at it?  Need some milk?  Cheese?  A bottle of wine?_ ”>

She smirked at the sarcasm before turning serious.  “Just hurry, my love.  We’ll be waiting back home for you.”  With that, she ended the transmission and looked hard at the feral.  “Now bloody well grab hold and let’s get going.”  The shadows formed and she stepped into the abyss, pulling her team mates with her. 

Just before Logan was swallowed by the darkness, he turned and stared at those beautiful gemstone eyes one final time.  “I’ll be waiting for ya, Cajun.”  Gambit only nodded, giving the older man what he needed to send him on his way, then watched as the feral disappeared into the shadows.  

Gambit blinked and flinched as a piece of the ceiling fell directly in front of him.  Looking up at the manacles that held his hands above his head, he mused how incongruous it was that the master took precautions to use materials that could not be charged, instead of dampening his powers.  The irony that Gambit could use his freely available mutant power to help destroy his master, while simultaneously being held captive in the master’s indestructible bindings, almost had him laughing out loud.  As long as he had been strung up, he doubted that he would even be able to move his hands anyway.  It was a given that he had long since lost feeling in both arms, and wouldn’t be surprised if at least one shoulder was dislocated from the weight of his body.  But, he couldn’t muster the energy to be worried over the apparent loss of his limbs, not when death was so close.  

A cloud of dust filled the room from the collapsing walls and ceiling, making him cough with the inhalation of particulate matter.  It was through this granularity that he saw the outline of a figure.  Breath held as hope began to burble in his chest, it took a few moments to realize his would-be savior was anything but.  “Creed” he moaned in dismay.

For his part, the big, burly man moved quickly into the room, a look of anger and determination on his face.  “Cajun” he growled, eyeing the shackles, before he flexed his claws and began slicing through it.  Several precious moments later, the bindings gave and Remy cried out as he fell to the floor.  The intensity of the sudden pain, as blood began to flow back into his arms, along with an already exhausted physical and mental state, caused Remy to lose consciousness almost immediately.  Creed sighed at the inconvenience, one side of his body still slowly healing from damage inflicted by the bolt of electricity he received earlier.  He hoisted the boy over his good shoulder and turned to exit the lab, dodging falling debris.  

Just as he crossed the threshold, something slammed into him from the side, knocking him to the floor.  The oblivious Cajun rolled several feet away; his body cushioned by the feral’s body from any damage that could have been sustained.  When Creed looked up, he snarled at the white winged X-man that came to stand over Remy’s body.  “He’s mine.”

“Last time I checked, Gambit was a member of the X-men.” Angel replied, his bored conversational tone conflicting with the tense defensive posture he assumed.  All around them, beams fell and walls crumpled, but neither man seemed concerned with the impending collapse.

“I’ve been watching all of you for a while.  I know there’s no love lost between you and the Cajun.”  Victor stood to his full height, baring an impressive set of fangs even as one arm appeared to be favoring his side.  “Why don’t you just get out of here and tell them he’s dead?  I’ll take my pet far away and the rest of the morons won’t even know.”

Angel surveyed the big man, noting that the mutant seemed fairly damaged already.  It made him more confident that he could take out the larger man quickly.  “Because I’ll know.  And no matter how much I may hate him on a personal level, he’s a team mate.”  His dirt smudged wings fanned out to display a remarkable span, shaking loose some of the dust coating.  “I will fight to the death, before I let **you** take any member of our team.”

Victor glared at the man, shifting that look momentarily to the boy lying at the winged mutant’s feet.  His possessive nature screamed at him to destroy the obstacle that threatened to take what was his.  But, the logical part of his brain reminded him that his body was still quite damaged from the earlier electrocution and might not survive a prolonged fight with a strong enemy, the place was about to fall on top of them, and neither he nor his pet would make it out alive if they didn’t leave now.  There would be opportunities in the future to reclaim the kid, if he played it smart now.   “Fine.  Take the brat.  I was getting bored with him anyway.”  With that, he turned his massive bulk and darted deeper into the tunnel, in the opposite direction of the entrance that was familiar to Angel.  

The billionaire could only stare bemusedly after the blonde feral.  / _Must be another exit that way_ / he pondered.  For a moment, Angel considered following the other man, but quickly dismissed the idea when he lost sight of the larger mutant.  As unfamiliar as he was with the base, it would take too long to pick up the trail; a risk the winged warrior could not take, given the impending collapse.  Warren squatted down to regard the unconscious boy.  “You’re quite the popular trouble-maker, aren’t you?”  Both elbows resting on his thighs, one hand dangling over a knee while the other rubbed his chin, Angel deliberated on the idea that the feral had presented.  It would be quite easy to leave the boy and make an escape.  After all, no one could really blame him, considering the situation.  Flying at top speed, with no additional weight and dodging the falling debris, he wasn’t even sure if he would make it out of the structure in time.  And though a few of his fellow X-men might mourn the loss, and perhaps be disappointed with his inability to bring the Cajun back to them, they would eventually forgive and forget; move on with their lives.  Would anyone truly suffer if Gambit simply ceased to exist?  Doubtful.

Warren eyed the crack in the ceiling directly above as it widened and the large stone tiles rumbled, on the verge of failing.  Any moment now, it would fall and crush them under its weight.  The winged man sighed and tapped his chin with one long, slender finger.  / _It would be so easy._ /  The voice of his memories, so full of jealousy and anger, tempted.  What to do?  “Decisions, decisions” he muttered, just as a chunk from the ceiling broke loose and began to tumble towards them.

End ch32


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter of this novel length story that I started so many years ago. It was a long road, with lots of ups and downs. I will always have bittersweet feelings about finishing the story - a mixture of regret, sadness and relief, joy. I hope that all of you, who have read the story, will find emotional closure with this final chapter as I did. With this final posting, I bid this story a fond, fond farewell and put that particular muse to a well deserved rest.
> 
> Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak  
> Words between * * are flashbacks  
> Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic
> 
> Notes 2: Those sentences that end with (1) and (2) – the blessings of the twins that Storm gives are direct quotes from an episode of the anime series Kyou Kara Maou!  
> Notes 3: Dialog lines followed by an * are either direct or paraphrased words from the song ‘The Reason’, owned by the band Hoobastank. The lyrics at the very end are also from “The Reason”.

CH 33

 

Waking up in a room that resembled a cross between a hospital and a researcher’s lab was enough to seize a man with a soul-clenching horror born of haunting memories.  It had taken several terrifying minutes for Remy’s mind to catch up to what his eyes were telling him.  He was not in his master’s lair; was not in danger of being sliced open for the sake of knowledge.  The room, he was placed, was the first exam room past the entrance to the medical bay of Xavier’s mansion.  Beyond this room, there were several more in a row, with the doctor’s office towards the back of the wing.  Each room was separated from the connecting hall by a curtained doorway.  The hallway, itself, was relatively dark; low level runway lighting along the floor providing a modest means of navigating.  Remy imagined it had to do with keeping light levels low, to avoid disturbing sleeping patients. 

 

The big, blue doctor came and went, multiple times, injecting this or withdrawing that.  Finally, with a smile and a pat on the thigh, he deemed Remy well enough to leave.  Despite being incredibly sore in his shoulders and arms, Remy was relatively healed.  It helped that McCoy had used some sort of alien device on him that reduced the micro tears in his muscles.  He supposed he should be grateful that the master had considered him valuable enough to keep healthy, even with the torture.  A shudder ran through him at the thought of Essex.  Remy had to believe the scientist was truly gone from his life.  The alternative was too unbearable to consider.

 

Remy had just finished donning the clothes that Hank had so kindly provided, and pulled the curtain back to enter the hallway.  The action caused him to nearly collide with Warren, who was exiting the room beside him.  For several tense moments, both men stared at each other.  It was Gambit that broke the silence first.

 

“De doctor tol’ me what y’ done.”  He watched for any kind of reaction from the winged mutant.

 

One fine, golden brow rose.  “There was never any doubt that I would get us out of there.”  A smug tone coated his voice, a feeling of superiority for a few moments.  Finally, though, a smirk tugged the edge of his lips.  “Though I suppose it helped that a large portion of the structure caved in and produced a hole straight to the sky.”  The words, once said, sobered the billionaire.  “We were very lucky.”

 

But Gambit knew it had been more than luck.  Hank told him how Angel had pulled him away from the collapsing ceiling; how the man carried the Cajun’s dead weight while flying through falling debris.  Those beautiful white wings had been struck multiple times, but despite the pain, Angel pushed forward.  They weren’t going to make it; the structure was demolishing too quickly and the entrance was too far away.  When a large area ahead of them completely caved, it was a miracle to see the inadvertent small up-flowing tunnel it created that led to the outside.  Without hesitation, Warren had adjusted his flight and soared straight up, pulling the Cajun’s body with him.  Hank’s final words about Angel’s damaged extremities, the weeks of therapy ahead, and how close Angel had come to losing his beautiful white wings, overwhelmed Gambit with guilt.

 

As much as he wanted to avert his face in shame, Jean Luc had always taught him the importance of looking a man straight in the eye.  “T'anks for saving me.”

 

Warren blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the sincerity he could sense in the Cajun’s words.  It made him pause and consider the boy, before clarifying a few things.  “You misunderstand. There is a fine line between justice and revenge.  Once crossed, there's no turning back.  A man must live with the consequences for the rest of his life.  So, I did not rescue you to save your life.  I did it to save mine.” 

 

“With the Professor's help,” the golden-haired mutant continued, “I've come to realize that it wasn't fair to blame you for the problems I had with my father.  You may have been the first boy he took to his bed, but you certainly weren't the last.  No, the fault lies completely with him.”  Warren sighed as he looked at the young, demon-eyed mutant.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I still don’t like you.”

 

Remy stared straight ahead as the winged mutant stepped forward to pass.  The golden haired businessman stopped as he came even with the younger man.  Canting a sideways look at Gambit, Warren smirked.  “But, I guess I no longer hate you, either.”  With that, the other mutant walked out of the med bay, leaving the Cajun standing there.  Remy could feel the truth of those final words, and it made his throat swell with emotion.  He continued standing there, as he collected himself.  A few moments passed before Remy noticed the light and sounds from another room further down.  He couldn’t help himself from investigating, and stole to the curtain’s edge, remaining in the hall where he wouldn’t be seen as he observed the occupants. 

 

It was like something out of a picture-painting he had once seen; Jean was holding one infant in her arms, while Ororo stood beside her holding the other.  Both women were smiling down at their charges, giddy with excitement and maternal feelings.  Watching them from the darkened hallway, he half-closed his eyes to prevent them from seeing the red irises that seemed to be brighter with the emotions swirling around him. 

 

“They are truly wondrous, Jean,” Storm cooed at the little girl she held, while sliding a finger gently down the cheek of the baby boy in Jean’s arms.  “A girl and a boy.  You are blessed.” 

 

The wind rider was as radiant as their mother, as she lovingly gazed at the babies.  Remy was awestruck watching his beloved weather goddess bestow a kiss on the child’s forehead and say a blessing over each, starting with the little girl in her arms.  “Walk straight, and be true to yourself.  Radiate a greater brilliance than anyone around you.  May you become everyone’s shining sun.”(1)

 

He strained closer to catch her words as she continued her prayer for the infant boy.  “Illuminate the way with a gentle light shining in the darkness, the one who nestles close to the sun, may you become the glowing moon.”(2)

 

Jean felt him in the shadows, turning to see the bare light of twin red orbs in the darkness of the hallway.  Sensing his unease, she called out to him with her telepathy.  / _Remy, why do you hide yourself?  Come and meet my babies./_

 

He jumped slightly at the unexpected contact.  After a pause, he thought back at her.  / _Can’t.  Don’ deserve to be anywhere near dem./_   Sadness colored those unspoken words as he watched the familial scene. 

 

Storm had her back mostly facing the door, and knew nothing of the conversation taking place.  As she continued to smile and hum at the babies, Jean frowned in the general direction of the hall.  / _Why do you say that?  You saved my children./_  

 

Remy shook his head slightly, though he knew she could not see him.  / _Mas_ _, dey wouldn’a been in danger, if it weren’t for me._ /  There was genuine regret underlying his mindspeak, and it made Jean’s heart ache for the boy.  She studied the darkness just beyond the curtain’s edge, and it dawned on her what the boy planned.

 

/ _You’re leaving./_

 

/ _It be best for everyone, if I go./_

 

/Y _ou know that’s not true!/_   She didn’t know how to convince him.  For a moment, she thought about saying something to Storm, who was happily interacting with the child in her arms and oblivious to the conversation.  But, in the end, all she managed was a heartfelt plea.  / _Stay_ /

 

Remy’s eyes closed and his brows drew together as if in pain.  Overwhelmed at the warmth that suffused him from her words, he could feel the emotions of everyone in the house.  With the Professor’s help, Remy had managed to gain some control over his empathy.  But despite this, his empathy was so strong now, that he wondered if it might ultimately undo him.  In that moment, he hated his power more than he could remember ever hating anything before.  He didn’t want to feel her frustration and sadness.  This was a time for her to be happy, to revel in the two little miracles she brought into this life.  Ever the master of obfuscation, he redirected her thoughts.  / _Dey_ _beautiful, chere./_

 

He watched her look down at the boy, then adjust her sight to the infant girl, with a mile-wide smile on her face.  The pride in her eyes was obvious.  It made his chest tighten at the scene.  As much as he knew his mutant power could be a curse, there were times when it was, also, a blessing.  He mentally called to her, to gain her attention once more.  / _Let Remy give you somet’in’./_

 

Seeing the puzzled look she directed his way, he continued.  / _Can you trust dis ol’ Cajun one last time?/_   He noted the frown, and waited for the answer.

 

/ _Of course I trust you, Remy.  You would never do anything to harm me or my children./_   It was spoken into his mind with such confidence, that he had to catch his breath to blink back the sudden tears prickling his eyes.

 

/ _Den, close yor eyes, chere, and open yor shields./_   There was no hesitation as she did as he requested.  It was there, within reach, and he gathered it all to him, cradling it as the most precious thing and growing it with care.  / _Now feel..._ /  And he sent all of it straight into her; a tidal wave crashing through her, filling her to overflowing.

 

Jean gasped and said aloud, “My babies!”  It was stunning.  She could feel her babies’ raw emotions, swirling within and around her; as vivid as all the colors of the rainbow, with the warmth and brilliance of a thousand suns.  The intensity of the crystal pure love that she felt from them bled over into Storm, whose sharp intake of breath and awed expression showed the power she could feel.  In another room, further away, the link she had with her unconscious husband allowed the rapturous maelstrom to wash over him, breathing new life into him.  The machines began to beep and hum, causing the doctor to flit between them in utter amazement, completely unaware of the small smile that formed on the unconscious leader’s face or the single tear that formed to track a path down his temple from the edge of one closed eye.

 

The ladies gushed over the babies and laughed, drunk with the feelings they were receiving.  Remy observed it all, a wistful smile of his own, and took the opportunity to slip away from them. 

 

 _/Oh, I can’t...can’t believe it.  Oh Remy, this is..._ /  Jean was overwhelmed, tears flowing freely from her own eyes.  It took a few moments to realize that he was no longer at the doorway.  _/Remy?/_   Her smile slowly faded.  _/Remy!/_

 

His mind voice drifted back to her. _/Love yor bebes, de way all chil'ren deserved to be loved./_   It was a mere whisper of a thought, now.  _/Never let dem fall, chere.  Never let dem fall./_

 

Briskly, Remy moved down the corridor, each section of the hallway he traversed lighting before him as the previous section dimmed to darkness.  As sore as his arms and shoulders were, there was nothing wrong with his legs, and he used them now to escape before his heart could stop him.  In his mind, he knew that it was best if he left these people.  After all, he was a thief and a swindler, wasn’t he?  Lost in thought, his footsteps faltered when he registered the figure near the elevator.  The Professor was outlined in white by the light panel above him, giving a halo effect to the telepath, even as it shadowed his facial features.

 

For a moment, they stood contemplating each other, until finally Xavier cocked his head to one side and asked, “Where will you go?”

 

Remy wasn’t sure if he felt relief or disappointment that the Professor didn’t press him to stay.  “Dunno.  Ain’t really t’ought dat far ahead.”

 

“Your shields are even stronger than before.  With more practice, I suspect you will have little difficulty with blocking the empathy.”  The Professor arched a brow.  “If that is what you truly want?” 

 

But, Remy didn’t know what he wanted anymore.  Or rather, he knew what he desired, but he didn’t know if he was worthy, even if there was a chance.  He lowered his head, looking down and not facing the man.  Xavier smiled warmly at him.  “You must not continue to blame yourself for events that were beyond your control.  It is the choices you made in the end, that truly matter.”

 

A deep inhalation before Gambit shook his head and moved forward to pass the Professor and enter the lift, he said “T’anks for all y’ done for me, Monsieur.  ‘spect I’m in yor debt.”  He pressed the button and waited for the doors to close.

 

“No more so than we are in yours.”  Xavier watched the boy turn to face him, disbelief clearly written on the Cajun’s face.  “You will always have a place with us, Remy LeBeau.  Never forget that.”  There was no time for Remy to respond as the metal entrance shut completely and the elevator began to ascend.  Remy took a shuddering breath, fighting to keep his pent-up emotions under control. Slowly, he banged his head against the back wall of the car, relishing the slight ache it produced.  How could these people even stand his presence?  Hadn’t he nearly destroyed them all?  It made no sense, and the sooner he could leave this place far behind, the better.  But, he couldn’t seem to make his heart understand.  The intensity of the pain in his chest as he thought about leaving Logan almost made him double-over, gasping for air.  He knew it was the right thing to do, the best thing for the feral, even if it killed Gambit to do so.

 

He made it all the way to the hallway just outside the den.  The plan was to apologize to the man for the hurt he had caused; maybe beg for forgiveness though he thought that might be asking for too much.  After, Remy would grab his meager belongings and flee into the night, like the thief he was.  Inside the room, he could see several of the X-men gathered.  Rogue, Bobby, and Jubilee inhabited the couch, bickering over the remote control, while Logan leaned against the fireplace.  It appeared that he was brooding, as he scowled into the fire, and Remy swallowed hard when that glare turned his way at the clearing of his throat.

 

“Uh...” he stammered, suddenly nervous as all pairs of eyes focused on him.  A natural charmer, he was completely at a loss for small talk, as sweat began to bead at the back of his neck.  So, he decided to get straight to the point.  “Logan, can I talk to you?”

 

The feral mutant stared hard at the boy, relishing the minute fidgeting his enhanced vision could see.  The boy was obviously worried.  Good.  “Whatever ya gotta say to me, ya can damn well say it in front of them.”

 

“Right” Gambit muttered.  “Look, mon ami.” Remy paused.  Would Logan still consider him a friend, let alone a lover?  “Eh, not a perfect person, me.”*  One hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he continued.  “Dere’s many t’ings I wish I hadn’t done.*”

 

Logan nodded in agreement.  No one was perfect, and everyone had skeletons in the closet.  But, he kept his focus on the boy who owned his heart, and broke it with lies and subterfuge, instead of delving into the fragments of his own past. 

 

“I never meant to do anyt’ing to hurt you.”  Ruby eyes captured baby blue, desperately wanting the older man to believe him as his voice quivered with emotion.  “So, I want y’ to know, before I go, dat I found a reason for me to change who I was; a reason to start over again and try to live on de right side for once.*”  Fire-red eyes glittered with unshed tears as he said, “And de reason is you.*”  A blush graced his cheeks as he looked from Logan to the three on the couch.  “All of y’all, actually.”

 

There was complete silence from his audience, not even the sound of breathing could be heard over the hard thumping in his chest or the roar of blood rushing through his veins.  Though he was talking to them all, he once again focused on Logan.  “I’m sorry dat I hurt all of y’all.  It’s somet’in’ I’m gonna hafta live wit’ every day.*”  Remy broke his gaze from the feral, and swept it around the room to face them all.  “And all de pain I put y’all t’ru, I wish I could take it...*” 

 

But he never managed to finish the sentence as he was suddenly tackled and thrown backwards against a wall, the older man’s mouth crushing his in a brutal kiss.  It was raw, impassioned, and demanding all at once.  It poured everything and all of them into each other as Remy returned the kiss with fervor.

 

“Uh, yeah, I think that’s our cue to leave.”  Jubilee jumped up and scampered from the room, face flushed over the ardurous display. 

 

Rogue began to follow, but noted that Bobby was rooted to the spot, staring slack-jawed and wide-eyed at the two men.  She chuckled as she placed a gloved finger under his chin and pushed the boy’s mouth closed, before leading him from the room.  “C'mon, sugah.  Let’s get you outta here, before you nosebleed to death.”          

 

When both men came up for air, they simply stared at each other.  Logan had two fists full of Remy’s collar as he pressed his lover into the wall.  "Listen here, fool, 'cause I'm only saying this once.  I'm no skirt.” He snarled, eyes glistening with too many emotions for Remy to grasp.  “Ya fucked up and pissed me off.  But, tell me yer sincerely sorry, promise me ya'll try to never do it again, buy me a beer, and we'll be right as rain again."  A slow smirk appeared on his face, as Logan added one last item to the list.  "And, of course, a little make-up sex will always seal the deal."

 

Remy blinked at the man for a moment, and then slowly smiled.  “Oui, chere.  Make-up sex sounds just fine to dis here Cajun.”

 

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to leave this eclectic mix that had become his family, after all.

 

~and the reason is you...~

 

THE END


End file.
